


We'll Carry It Off

by afterafternoons



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Canonical Character Death, Connor is Thespian President, F/M, How Do I Tag, Kevin is a mess, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, high school theatre, pre-mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-10-16 06:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 60,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17544725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterafternoons/pseuds/afterafternoons
Summary: Kevin Price is NOT valedictorian and he's well attuned to this fact. Studies show that participation in extracurricular activities are proven to raise grades and per Mrs. Brown's advice, Kevin auditions for the school musical. He has no faith in his talents, he can't dance and he doesn't know anyone. Should Kevin live to see himself cast in the musical, he'll need Thespian President, Connor McKinley, to show him the ropes. In a showy attempt to raise his grades, Kevin will learn more about himself and become more aware of the people around him as he is forced to learn who they are as people and not just as faces he passes in the hall or sits next to in class.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A quick thanks to Ryan, Fran and Sowmya who read bits and pieces of this and tried to keep me sane. To Nick who posted about wanting to read an AU like this, didn't want me to spoil anything, but allowed me to inevitably let things slip and bombard him with never ending comments on Kevin's character. And to Abbey who saw the Jumamosi tour with me in Chicago and provided me with a couple good puns and endless support. 
> 
> Now I should also say I've never done a multi-chaptered fic and much like Kevin Price, I am a mess. This isn't as introspective as my other works as I tried to focus on Kevin's interactions with people and his environment - but I tried and that's what matters, right?

Kevin Price is partial to labels. He lives by them. He finds solace in them.    
  
It’s not like he’s void of empathy, but he sometimes needs things spelled out for him rather bluntly. And that’s why labels work, because they make the world so much easier to understand. Labels cut the guessing games and the assumptions.    
  
He finds labels to be short, sweet and to the point. Labels are blunt. Labels work for Kevin.    
  
If Kevin were to guess, he’d say they first made themselves a staple in his life around the same time he entered Joy School at 4 years old.    
  
At 4, Kevin was relabeled. An incoming baby sister stealing his ‘youngest child’ label and forever marking him a middle child. Not that Kevin was really old enough to care.    
  
At 4 Kevin cared more about the physical labels his mom had spent time wrapping around each and every one of his crayons. He was old enough to recognize his own name, but more importantly he was old enough to be distraught when Chris Green snapped his blue crayon in half. Or when Jonathan Grant shoved Kevin’s red crayon up his nose. And while Zach Harris’ mom tried hard to preach unto Kevin the joys of sharing per the Joy School curriculum, Kevin knew deep down that those crayons were his. And as Kevin understood it, he didn’t have to share _his_ crayons.    
  
Now, at 18, Kevin better understands that not all labels are physical. Some of them are predetermined, while others are imposed on you by society. Some of them you have to work for and others just kind of fall in your lap.    
  
Kevin is Kevin Price; because that’s what all of his physical labels read. Kevin is the third of five children. He is a son, a brother. He’s a devout Mormon and a good student. He’s Student Council President.    
  
Kevin, however, is NOT valedictorian. And this fact is often thrown in his face when his ego needs to be kept in check. He’s a good student, in the sense that he participates in class and admittedly he’s a bit of a teacher’s pet, but Kevin has a tendency to struggle with material. And try as he might to spend extra time with teachers and tutors, there are certain things he simply cannot grasp.    
  
“Kevin,” Mrs. Brown muses from her desk. Her classroom is empty save for herself and Kevin, who’s fumbling through pages of coursework for her calculus class.    
  
Kevin glances up from his work, pencil hovering over the page. His schedule happens to align perfectly with Mrs. Brown’s free periods, so he typically opts to eat lunch in her room as opposed to the cafeteria. This way she’s at his disposal if he doesn’t understand the material or if he needs to discuss something Student Council related before the next meeting.    
  
“The Salt Lake Tribune just published a piece about extra curricular activities boosting academic success.” She reads off her computer screen, shuffling with the Tupperware lid on her homemade lunch.    
  
Kevin hums in acknowledgment, head already buried back in his studies. He’s not the best multitasker and often ends up eating his lunch well into the periods after his scheduled lunchtime; but today he’d gotten past the sandwich and into his bag of chips. “I think most of the student council kids are already in other activities.” He says as an afterthought, assuming that’s why she had brought it up.   
  
“What do you do outside of school, Kevin?” She prompts.    
  
Kevin looks up from his work again, trading his pencil for his bag of chips so he can engage in the conversation she’s trying to have. “Church.” He shrugs, swallowing, “Homework. Student Council every other Monday.”    
  
“No job?” She asks leaning back in her chair as she digs into her salad; because Kevin isn’t the kind of person to give you his life story unless it’s convenient for him. He’s talkative, sure, but he mostly tells the same stories. Like how he went to Disney when he was 9 and was absolutely enchanted by the magic. Or about how he’ll be prepping for his mission in the coming year and that he hopes he’ll get stationed in Orlando.    
  
“No job.” He confirms, comfortable enough with Mrs. Brown to share his faults. In all his years as a high school student, she never made him feel small or incapable and she always went out of her way to help him learn in a way that made sense. “My main focus is my schoolwork and my faith.”    
  
Mrs. Brown nods in thought, twisting her fork through her salad. “Would you consider an extra curricular?”   
  
Kevin glances down at his schoolwork in response, but he aims to please so he ponders her question for a moment. “Do you really think it would help?”    
  
“I don’t see why it wouldn’t.” She answers in earnest, “Auditions for the school musical are approaching, I think you’d be a good candidate. If you audition, I’ll give you ten extra credit points.”   
  
Kevin is quick to shake his head, “I can’t sing.”   
  
“Then what’re you going to do? Join bass fishing?” Mrs. Brown teases, “Think about it. You’ll need to prepare a memorized song and a monologue. Auditions are next Monday. You need to wear something comfortable and come ready to dance.”

* * *

  
The fact of the matter is, Kevin can sing. He’s been in the church choir for as long as he can remember. Not necessarily because he wanted to be, but more so because it made his parents happy to see their kids involved in the church and Kevin aimed to please.   
  
“Kevin, buddy,” Arnold tries to reason with him as they walk to Kevin’s car after school, “I kinda agree with Mrs. Brown.”   
  
Kevin groans in response, swinging his backpack around so he can dig through the front pockets for his car keys. Per usual, his outburst goes unnoticed by Arnold and he’s left to wonder how his best friend can be so positive about everything. Kevin doesn’t think he’s ever heard Arnold turn down the chance for a new experience. Unlike Kevin, he adapts in the face of change. He even embraces it.    
  
“Dude,” Arnold continues, “this could be really good for you. What if your grades skyrocket? Then you’ll get into Harvard and become a neurosurgeon like you’ve always wanted!”    
  
“I’m going to BYU.” Kevin reminds Arnold, moving to unlock his car with a hopeless sigh. Now that he’s told Arnold, he’ll have to audition and all because he couldn’t just keep this information to himself. “Besides, do you ever listen to me when I talk? I don’t want to be a neurosurgeon. I want to be a registered nurse.”    
  
“Right.” Arnold replies, throwing his backpack into the backseat, “You want to wipe old people’s butts.”   
  
“Arnold, please—“   
  
“No, no, I get it.” Arnold shrugs, “You want to be on poop duty while someone much cooler than yourself saves lives.”   
  
“Arnold,” Kevin tries to interrupt again, “do you know anything useful about anyone in a healthcare profession?”    
  
“I know they have a lot of s-e-x in on call rooms.” Arnold supplies.   
  
Kevin looks over at his friend, scandalized. “Who told you that?” Kevin explodes after a moment of silence, his voice bordering on hysteria and his eyes wild. Sometimes, he cannot believe the things that come out of his best friends mouth.    
  
“This show my mom watches.” Arnold waves a dismissive hand, “Anyways, back to the old people—“   
  
“Stop talking.” Kevin decides, finally starting the car.   
  
“But—“   
  
“No.” Kevin shuts him up, “I’m not talking about any type of but or butt with you. I don’t want to be a neurosurgeon or a geriatric nurse. I want to be a  pediatric nurse. I want to work with little kids.”    
  
“They’ll need their butts wiped too.” Arnold inserts in a low voice and if Kevin had laser vision or a serious lack of self control, he’d be a goner, but he ventures on anyway. “Just audition. It’s not guaranteed that you’ll even get cast.”   
  
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Kevin mumbles as he backs out of his parking space.   
  
“Look, you really don’t have anything to worry about.” Arnold assures him, “You can sing and you’ve been learning how to memorize lines since you were born. I bet you could recite the entire Book of Mormon in your sleep.”   
  
Kevin hates nothing more than when Arnold makes valid points, but he has to hand it to him. In true Kevin fashion he needs more reassurance than that of Arnold. So, over dinner he consults his family.    
  
“Kevin, what is the worst possible thing that could come of this?” Jack asks, ever the voice of reason.    
  
Kevin won’t admit it, but he’s glad to have his older brother back from his two year mission. And if it were possible, he’s even happier that Jack chooses to commute from home to BYU to save on the cost of housing. There had been a period of time where Kevin had been the oldest Price child in the house. With Ethan away at school and Jack on his mission and while Kevin felt he was a born leader, it just wasn’t the same. He’s pretty fortunate that for the most part he gets along with all of his siblings.    
  
“I’ll die.” Kevin answers pathetically, stabbing at his spinach.   
  
“I think that was perhaps the most dramatic thing that’s ever fallen out of your mouth.” Jack teases, “You definitely belong on stage.”   
  
“Enlighten us, Kevin.” His father prompts, “How will this experience kill you?”   
  
He remains silent because he doesn’t have a good response, offering a shrug instead as he shoves a forkful or pork into his mouth.    
  
“He’ll fall off the stage.” Colin supplies, probably fantasizing about taking Kevin’s room after his unfortunate demise, as younger brothers are inclined to do.    
  
“That’ll hardly kill him.” Jack responds with his mouthful, earning a glare from his mother.    
  
“He could die of embarrassment?” Hannah offers, probably conspiring with Colin for control of Kevin’s room and with this thought, Kevin suspects that maybe he should be less worried about auditioning and more worried about how ready and willing his siblings seem to off him.    
  
“I think this would be good for you.” Mrs. Price speaks up, over the discussion of Kevin’s prospective untimely death. “And I think Arnold and Jack are right. What’s the worse that could happen?”    
  
“I die?” Kevin repeats, to which Mrs. Price responds with a look that in and of itself tells him to knock it off.    
  
So, Kevin practices. He sits with Jack at the piano in the living room after school and later in the evening he bores Jack to sleep with his monologue. Which, isn’t to say it isn’t any good. Kevin has it down perfectly, it’s just that Jack’s attention can only be kept so long by something he’s not entirely invested in.    
  
And then the fateful day arrives and Arnold accompanies him to the school’s theatre under the guise of support, but in all reality his job is to make sure Kevin gets on that stage and follows through with auditioning.    
  
“I don’t know if I can do this.” Kevin whines, rolling his sheet music in his hand as he and Arnold step foot into the fine arts hallway. Kids Kevin can vaguely recognize are lined up and down the hallway; pacing as they go over their monologues or sat next to their backpacks as they fill out their audition cards.   
  
Arnold has complete faith in Kevin’s abilities, so he pushes Kevin into the throws of theatre kids even as his best friend tries to back pedal out of the situation.    
  
“I don’t know anyone.” Kevin hisses under his breath as Arnold nudges him forward.    
  
Arnold’s eyebrows knit together as he replies without the sense of secrecy Kevin had tried to maintain, “How is that possible? You’re a popular kid and more than that we’ve been going to school with all of them for at least four years now.”   
  
Kevin scoffs in response; as if Arnold has just asked the most ridiculous question he’s ever heard. Which, granted, is a very Arnold thing to do, but this is perhaps the most mundane question he’s ever asked. He’s not even sure how to answer the question. Does Arnold know everyone? And if so, how does he remember that many names? Their school enrollment is just under 2,000 kids - is knowing everyone even a possible feat?    
  
Kevin’s tendency to let his thoughts spiral out of control proves the perfect opportunity for Arnold to push Kevin to the front of the line.    
  
“Are you guys auditioning?” A redheaded boy grins, hovering around the audition sign-up table. Kevin’s stunned into silence, blanking on a name and looking to Arnold to see if he does indeed posses the ability to know any given student’s name. He has an impulsive need to test his theory and he so desperately wants to be wrong so he can start feeling better about not recognizing a majority of the kids currently crowded in the hallway.    
  
“I’m not.” Arnold leads the conversation with a bony elbow to Kevin’s side, snapping him out of his thoughts and setting him on the right path. “My friend Kevin is. I’m just his emotional support human.”   
  
Kevin blinks at that comment, but doesn’t say anything about it because after all it is a very Arnold thing to say. Instead, he tries to decipher if Arnold is avoiding saying this kids name or if he really doesn’t know it.    
  
“Connor McKinley.” The boy introduces with an outstretched hand, foiling Kevin’s test, “First audition?”   
  
“Kevin Price.” Arnold says for Kevin who’s shaking Connor’s hand, wordlessly and Kevin snaps out of his spiraling thoughts once again.    
  
“Yeah.” Kevin confesses, pulling his hand away, “Sorry. I’m just a bit nervous, I guess.”    
  
“We all get the jitters.” Connor assures him, a gesture meant to calm his nerves but there is no plucking Kevin Price from a spiral. He’ll have to do that on his own dime, fumbling through awkward conversation in the meantime. “So, what part are you auditioning for?”    
  
As Connor poses his question, another boy fumbles in, wrapped up in a pea coat and Kevin guesses his face is red from the cold - though he doesn’t remember the weather report for the day. Was it supposed to be all that cold?    
  
“Sorry I’m late,” the newcomer apologizes, and in a lower voice he adds - presumably for Connor’s ears only, “hospital.”    
  
Connor moves to squeeze his hand without a word, effortlessly roping him into the conversation. “Chris, meet Kevin. He’s new and I was just asking what part he’s auditioning for.”    
  
Chris wipes his free hand under his eye before extending it to Kevin and Kevin’s quick to see through the fake smile he puts up as the pair formerly introduce themselves.    
  
It’s not the cold that’s pinked Chris’ face but rather his tears. For better or worse, Kevin pays a fine amount of attention to detail and now that he’s put two and two together he desperately wants to pick at something he shouldn’t. It’s none of his business why this kid has just returned from the hospital and it takes all of his willpower not to inquire.    
  
“I don’t think I understand your question.” Kevin confesses to Connor instead.    
  
“What part are you auditioning for?” Connor clarifies, eyebrows knitted together. He glances at Chris, a glint of worry in his eye but more noticeably he’s trying to provide a distraction at Kevin’s expense. “I just wanted to know if you have a character in mind.”    
  
Kevin looks to Arnold and the answer to the question is clearly no.    
  
“Do you know what show you’re auditioning for?” Connor follows up, his question innocent enough, but the second Kevin starts to shake his head he can see the chain reaction he’s started - evident in the light that leaves Connor’s eyes. “How is that even possible? Don’t you listen to morning announcements?”   
  
“We have seminary that hour.” Arnold speaks up in his best friend’s defense, “Mrs. Brown told him to audition because it’ll help his grade.”    
  
Kevin delivers an elbow to Arnold’s side.    
  
“I mean because it’ll be fun.” Arnold reiterates, moving to straighten his glasses.    
  
Connor nods slowly in response and Kevin has never wanted to leave a situation more than he does now, but instead of make fun of him Connor reaches for an audition sheet and a pen. He uses the pen to gesture to the stage door where a poster for the musical Hello, Dolly! is posted, before pressing the materials into Kevin’s hands.    
  
“Arnold, you should really join crew.” Connor goes on to say, setting a hand on Arnold’s forearm as he speaks, having already moved past Kevin’s awkwardness. “We’re always looking for people.”    
  
Kevin retreats to fill out the paperwork, overhearing snapshots of conversation where Arnold explains to Connor that he’d really rather be a playwright if he were to join theatre.   
  
“What should I put here?” Kevin speaks up, “Under which roles are you interested in?”   
  
Connor pauses the conversation he’s having with Arnold to look Kevin over and Kevin, who towers over Connor, feels threatened. Suddenly he isn’t sure if Connor’s setting him up. Would Connor recommend a bad part? Would he try to weed out the competition? Or would he be honest with him? Kevin doesn’t know him well enough to answer any of these questions and that’s what really freaks him out.    
  
“Put down Barnaby and Cornelius.” Connor says after a moment, looking to Chris for confirmation, “That’s what I did. Barnaby is young and naive. He’s easily distracted and excited. Cornelius is older and he’s got more leadership qualities of the pair, but he’s still got a naive innocence to him.”    
  
Kevin puts down Cornelius first and Barnaby second. Barnaby sounds more like Arnold than it does him, not that Kevin can totally see himself in the brief description of Cornelius either. He checks the box that indicates he’d be willing to accept other roles and he can’t help but interrupt the conversation again when he reads the words “Are you willing to kiss on stage?”    
  
“It’s a love story, hon.” Connor says pointedly.    
  
Kevin feels confused and disoriented, are they allowed to ask kids that barely know each other to kiss for an audience? As he spirals in and out of his endless barrage of questions, Kevin finds himself onstage performing his monologue and singing along to the accompaniment and before long he’s being herded out onto the stage amongst a slew of other teenagers.    
  
“How’d it go?” Arnold grins, looking up from his phone as Kevin emerges from the stage door.    
  
“Well, I didn’t mess up.” Kevin sighs.   
  
“You never mess up.” Arnold says pointedly, “So what’s wrong?”    
  
“I think I got cast.” Kevin pales preemptively and Arnold throws his hands around his best friends waist, pulling him into a hug. Anyone who knows Kevin knows that he’s a terrible fortune teller, but that doesn’t stop him from making assumptions. “Arnold what if all my grades drop because I’m worried about the play?”    
  
“Kevin, buddy, you’re spiraling.” Arnold says, face pressed against Kevin’s sweater. He’s quick to pull away, “Ground control to Major Kevin? Hello, Space Cadet?”   
  
“What have I gotten myself into?” Kevin asks miserably, blinking away his catatonic state to look at his best friend.    
  
“Hey,” Arnold says softly, “you’ll do great. Besides, you don’t know that you got cast. You haven’t even danced yet.”   
  
Kevin laughs dryly, moving to occupy the space Arnold had just abandoned and digging through his backpack for the snack he’d packed.    
  
“We have fifteen minutes until we have to meet with the dance captain and the choreographer.” He explains, mouth full of granola bar. “I don’t know how to dance.”    
  
Arnold squeezes in next to Kevin. “Their job is to teach you how to do that.”    
  
Kevin thinks in this moment that Arnold sounds a lot like Jack. A voice of reason in his life, just one that he’s not related to. Arnold was there when Jack was away and Kevin thinks if it weren’t for both of them, he’d go insane.    
  
Pathetically, Kevin knocks his head back against the wall with a wince. “At least I wasn’t sent home. I don’t think I could take that.”    
  
“Stop thinking like that.” Arnold replies, “I believe in you.”    
  
“Thanks, buddy.” Kevin says, allowing a small smile in appreciation.    
  
He spends his miniature break with his eyes closed, trying not to think too far about what’s ahead. The ever talkative Arnold proposes his plan to join crew if Kevin “makes the team” and before long the remaining teens are rounded up.    
  
“So,” Mrs. Brown addresses the group, “Chris has a quick announcement to make before we get the rest of you set up with the choreographer.”    
  
Kevin hadn’t realized that Mrs. Brown was in charge of the theatre department until he’d stepped foot on stage earlier, which made her insistence that he audition make a lot more sense, but he chose not to dwell on it as Chris broke away to address the crowd with Connor in tow.    
  
“As many of you know,” Chris began with a deep breath, “my sister, Lauren, is not getting better.”   
  
He swallows, offering a quick apology as he studies the floor instead of facing them directly. “Sorry.” He sniffles again and Connor is quick to his side, pulling him close and rubbing circles into his back. “Over Christmas break we moved Lauren into hospice and, uhm, she’s really sorry she couldn’t come back this year to be dance captain, but she wanted me to formally appoint Connor to the position.”    
  
If Connor’s honored by the title, he doesn’t show it. Instead allowing Chris to melt into him after having hiccuped through the latter part of his speech. Mrs. Brown is quick to press tissues into Chris’s hand, trying to comfort him the best she can. Some of the more experienced theatre kids are in tears, but Kevin doesn’t know how to feel so he says a quick prayer under his breath for Chris’ family because that is something he knows how to do.    
  
Eventually, the choreographer captures their attention long enough to lead them through a series of routines. Connor rejoins them in time, leaving Chris seated backstage to gather his bearings alone.   
  
Kevin is the first to note that he isn’t a great dancer, granted he doesn’t have two left feet, but he possesses an entirely different problem: spatial awareness. He’s lanky and long limbed and he often doesn’t realize when he’s invaded somebody else’s personal space.   
  
“Kevin.” Connor reprimands for what feels like the thousandth time and that’s all he really needs.  A verbal reminder to take a step or two back, but that doesn’t stop Connor’s commentary. “Swing your arm out like that during a show and you’ll take out five ensemble members.”    
  
The shorter boy stops short in front of Kevin, this time initiating the breech of personal space. “You need dance lessons.”   


* * *

  
“Connor says I need dance lessons.” Kevin continues, recounting his afternoon after his father has prayed for their dinner, “Or I’m literally going to kill someone on stage.”   
  
“Is that my sweater?” Jack cocks his head from across the table, taking in the navy sweater Kevin’s wearing with the words BYU printed across the front.   
  
Kevin looks down with a frown, feeling a bit like his story is being ignored. “I don’t know.”   
  
“Kevin, where does Connor suggest you get dance lessons?” His mother speaks up, tabling the likely sibling argument.    
  
“I don’t know.” Kevin repeats.   
  
“Well if you don’t know we can’t help you, son.” His father chimes in, dishing up his plate.    
  
“Maybe Kevin can join my ballet class?” Hannah provides in hopes that she’s contributing helpful ideas.    
  
Jack looks between Hannah and Kevin for a moment before he noisily sets down his silverware. “That sounds like a really good idea, Hannah.” He smiles, perching his elbow on the table so he can rest his chin in his palm as he looks to Kevin, “Right, Kev?”   
  
“I think I might be too old.” Kevin sighs as their father reprimands Jack for putting his elbow on the table and antagonizing his siblings.    
  
While Jack is the voice of reason, he’s also a wild card; and Kevin thinks deep down that sometimes Jack is still taking out his revenge for a certain donut incident that happened 13 years ago. Jack would rather break the rules and ask for forgiveness than never break the rules at all. Which, admittedly, Kevin has noticed a lot of his church peers are the same way. Take Arnold and his compulsive lying problem. But Kevin can’t break the rules if he wants to be prophet. Rules are a lot like labels. They’re hard and fast guidelines. And Kevin can’t break the rules.    
  
“Why don’t you talk to Connor tomorrow at callbacks.” His mother suggests.    
  
“If I get called back.” Kevin sighs again.    
  
“You’re moping is really unbecoming.” Mr. Price asserts, “First you didn’t want to audition. Now you don’t know what you’ll do if you don’t get the part. There’s really no need to bring all of us down with you, Kevin.”    
  
“Sorry.” Kevin says reflexively, “It won’t happen again.”    
  
And with that he offers his dad a toothy, albeit forced, smile that he’s spent years perfecting at church gatherings and Student Council meetings. Anywhere he’s thrust into a light where eyes are sure to be on him.    
  
“Maybe you’ll be a tree.” Colin comments, digging into his dinner.    
  
Kevin offers him the same forced smile in return.    
  
After dinner he and his siblings retreat to the kitchen to clean the dishes. Kevin finds himself elbow deep in dirty water as Jack chases Colin around the island trying to whip him with the drying towel.    
  
“Boys are really immature.” Hannah notes. Sometimes she makes very profound statements and then shrugs them off as if she weren’t a little genius, but Kevin knows her secret and he happens to agree with her.    
  
“Most of them, yeah.” He replies as the phone rings.    
  
“Got it!” Jack says, nearly tripping over Colin as he lunges for the phone. Hannah looks to Kevin as if their older brother has just proved her point.   
  
In the Price family it’s universal knowledge that answering the phone is Jack’s thing because he’s always got something witty to say. “Price Summer Home.” He greets the caller, looking to his siblings for an audience, “Some-are home, some-are not. Jack speaking.”    
  
Kevin never gets phone calls so needless to say when Jack holds the phone in his direction, he’s surprised - but he’s also still elbow deep in dirty water and he shrugs his shoulders at Jack in hopes that he’ll get the hint. “Who is it?” He hisses, but Jack puts the phone to Kevin’s ear without a word.   
  
“Hi, this is Kevin.” He answers tentatively as Hannah hands him a towel. Teasingly Jack takes a step back, forcing his younger brother to follow.    
  
“Hey, Kevin. This is Connor McKinley. I couldn’t find you on Facebook, so I’m calling the number you left on your audition sheet.” Connor explains, “Mrs. Brown finalized and emailed me the callback list and I’m excited to tell you that we want you to join us tomorrow.”   
  
“That’s— that’s great.” Kevin stutters, taking the phone from Jack and leaning against the island. “Yeah, I don’t have a Facebook page.”   
  
“If you could join it’d be a big help because we typically post everything there.” Connor replies, “Unless of course you want me to call with every bit of news or inconvenience.”    
  
“No, uh, yeah.” Kevin sputters, “I’ll get on that. Sorry, I’m just– I can’t believe I’ve made it this far.”    
  
“There’s a long road ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow, Kevin.”   
  
“Wait, Connor?”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“You said I need dance lessons.” Kevin reminds him, “Where do I get those?”    
  
Connor laughs on the other end. “Rehearsals are Monday, Wednesday and Friday. If you get cast and you’re not busy I can practice with you in the wrestling/dance room next to the weight room on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”    
  
“Great, thank you.” Kevin breathes, feeling like he’s got his life in order now, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”    
  
He clicks the phone off and turns to his siblings with a grin. “I made it to callbacks!”   
  
“Kevin’s going to be a tree!” Colin grins, rushing to give his brother a hug.    
  
“Aim higher, buddy! Let’s hope Kevin is a lead!” Jack smiles, ruffling Kevin’s hair.    
  
Hannah squeezes into the group hug, adding, “I still think you should come to my ballet lessons.”    
  
Kevin laughs, basking in the rare moment where all of his siblings are proud of his accomplishments and not fighting one another in some capacity. “Thanks guys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing substantial has happened, but that will come in time. Please leave a kudos or a comment; not only do I love validation as much as Kevin Price but I do take suggestions into consideration.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin attends callbacks and is invited out to a pizza dinner with his newfound theatre family. Connor squabbles with an old flame and Arnold learns that Kevin knows absolutely nothing about Star Wars when he is asked to redo a school assignment. Jack helps his little brother and Kevin expands his small world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I’m not sure that anything particularly substantial happens in this chapter but we do meet some characters and there’s some set up for some future discourse. Also, Churchtarts is hinted at in my spite to prove to a friend that I can develop their relationship.

Despite his nerves, Kevin manages to get some sleep. He drudges through his classes until he’s left waiting for Arnold at his locker after school.

“Where were you?” Kevin asks, biting his nails as Arnold spins in his combination.

”My creative writing teacher wanted to talk to me after class.” Arnold replies, squinting to read the small numbers on his lock after his combination doesn’t work the first time around. “She can’t accept my Star Wars fanfiction for a grade so she’s giving me extra time to create something from scratch.”

“What’re you gonna do?” Kevin asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet as a result of his nerves.

Arnold shrugs, glancing at his best friend as he plucks his coat from it’s hook. “I’m gonna poke around for inspiration during your callback. Maybe I’ll make you a character.” 

The pair walk down the main stairway together, Arnold leaving his friend with a hug and a vote of confidence as he drops Kevin off at the stage door. Kevin smiles appreciatively in return, offering Arnold a little wave as he braves himself.

He really hopes he won’t have to settle for playing a tree.

“Kevin!” Connor waves him over, with a smile. He’s seated in the house with a couple faces Kevin doesn’t recognize, lounging in the auditorium seats as Mrs. Brown prepares at the front of the stage.

Kevin knows he’s early, but he’d always been taught that on time was late. Arriving early gave him the chance to meet the prospective cast as they arrived. At the very least Kevin’s happy to know two people, but he doesn’t see Chris in the auditorium.

“Script?” Connor offers, pressing a book into Kevin’s hands.

“I joined Facebook last night.” Kevin says, eager to please. He’d put thought into the picture he used and the header he chose and while he probably wouldn’t use it for anything other than theatre, he was proud of it.

“Great! I’ll add you to the group.” Connor replies, patting the chair next to him. He motions to the girls in the row in front of them who have all twisted in their seats to talk to one another, “KevinPrice meet Nabulungi, Kimbay and Sadaka.”

“Hi.” Kevin greets timidly as he takes a seat. He feels a bit alienated, like everyone’s been life long friends and he’s intruding.

“This is the one who didn’t know what he was auditioning for?” Sadaka refers to Connor, who nods in return. Kevin’s expecting her to laugh in his face, but instead she waves a dismissive hand through the air. “Beginners mistake.”

“You cannot dance for shit, though.” Kimbay informs him.

“Kimbay,” Connor says, shooting her a look, “I said I’d teach him how.”

She purses her lips as if she doesn’t trust Connor’s ability or maybe, Kevin starts to worry, it isn’t that she doesn’t trust Connor but more so that Kevin is a lost cause. Even though Kevin is the tallest of the assembled group, he still shrinks under her scrutinizing gaze.

“Ah!” Nabulungi stands up abruptly, waving to someone behind Kevin. “Steven Blade! I thought you were not doing theatre anymore? Something about balls?”

Kevin watches Connor glance at Steve and then promptly turn back to face Sadaka and Kimbay who seem to be gauging his reaction as well. He’s got one arm propped up on the arm rest and as soon as Nabulungi says the word balls he’s moved to not-so-subtly face palm himself.

“I didn’t make the basketball team.” Steve confesses, ignoring Connor, which gives Kevin the impression that they’re either competing for similar roles or something happened in the past between the two of them.

“You do have a dribbling problem.” Connor comments under his breath, “And last I checked you’re not the best ball handler.” 

“Is there something you want to say to my face, McKinley?” Steve prods. 

Connor turns around, red faced and Kevin suspects it has more to do with unresolved anger than it does with embarrassment. “I think you’re a terrible receiver and I don’t know how you made the football team last season. More than that I don’t think you should have been awarded the chance to audition for the musical after you skipped auditions yesterday to audition for the basketball team. They weren’t going to take you anyways, you’re the worst rim shot I’ve ever seen.”

“They’re called try-outs.” Steve replies evenly, “I tried out for the basketball team.”

“Same difference.” Connor sneers.

“I got called back same as you, McKinley.” Steve continues, “Stop pretending like you know what you’re talking about. You and I both know you’re taking low blows at our sexual history.”

Connor laughs dryly, “You wish I’d blow you.”

“That is not what I said.” Steve argues.

“Is something the matter, boys?” Mrs. Brown interrupts before things escalate and Kevin feels even more alienated than he did before. If not more confused and slightly repulsed by the blatant discussion of sex.

“No.” Connor replies, turning back around offering Mrs. Brown the same forced smile Kevin had used over dinner the night before, “Everything’s fine. Just peachy.”

“I won’t have a repeat of last year.” She warns, pointing an accusing finger at both of them before she retreats back to the table she’s set up at the front of the stage to organize her things.

“Of course not, Mrs. Brown.” Steve calls after her, scooping up a script and moving to sit as far away from Connor as possible.

“You are too nice, Nabulungi.” Kimbay speaks up after a bout of silence. “Greeting everybody who walks through the door.”

“And you are too mean.” Nabulungi refutes and just like that the conversation has moved on. “Kevin Price what part are you auditioning for?”

“Uh,” Kevin looks to Connor who’s typing away at his phone and probably needs a good chunk of time to cool down, “Connor told me to put down Barnaby and Cornelius.”

“Connor has a good eye.” Sadaka praises him, leaning over the back of her chair to nudge Connor’s knee. He doesn’t look up and she doesn’t push it any farther. If it were left up to Kevin, he may have kept poking the bear.

“Sorry, I’m late.” Chris says, startling Kevin as he rounds the seats and squeezes past Kevin’s long legs so he can take up the seat on Connor’s left side. Kevin won’t fault him if this is a reoccurring theme, despite his extremely vague knowledge of Chris’ personal life there is a knot of sympathy forming in Kevin’s stomach.

“Steve is such a douchebag.” Connor says, looking to his best friend for back up.

“I told you not to talk to him.” Chris shrugs, shedding himself of his backpack as he unbuttons his coat. Kevin’s probably overstepping, but he suspects they’ve had this conversation a handful of times by the way Connor groans in response and rejoins the conversation at hand after straightening the ends of his shirt.

“Steve and I dated for about 30 seconds.” Connor loops Kevin in, “Which exponentially overshoots the amount of time he can last during intercourse.”

Kevin sputters, unsure how to respond and Kimbay steps in, leaning to flick Connor’s knee. “Do not scare him away. He just got here.”

“Sorry.” Connor says, but his words are hollow and his eyes look through Kevin.

“Let’s get started!” Mrs. Brown announces, disrupting further conversation. She scans her clipboard and the audience, which has filled out quite a bit since Kevin last cared enough to pay attention to who got a callback and who didn’t. “We’ll start with dialogue and move from there. Kevin and Connor, to the stage please. Bottom of page 17. I want Kevin to read for Cornelius and Connor to read for Barnaby.”

If Connor’s mad, he does a good job hiding it and Kevin suspects he might be good at that — masking his emotions to please others. Kevin aims to please people too, but he’s nowhere near as in tune with his emotions as Connor seems to be.

“Barnaby, we’re going to New York!” Kevin reads and he winces as how rigid he sounds.

“You mean close the store?” Connor replies as if the words belonged to him.

“Uh huh.” Kevin nods, channeling Arnold’s naïveté and trying to ease into the scene.

“Cornelius, we can’t!”

“We’ll have to. Some more rotten tomato cans are going to explode. 

“Holy cabooses!” Connor exclaims as Kevin tries to brace himself for the upcoming paragraph. “How do you know?”

“I’m going to light this candle under them, that’s how I know—“

“Thank you.” Mrs. Brown smiles, waving them off stage, “Nabulungi Hatimbi and Elijah Zelder. Middle of 59. Elijah for Horace, Naba for Dolly.”

Kevin and Connor return to their seats and when Nabulungi is done Connor gives her a standing ovation. He makes a point of not standing for Steve and showering Steve’s scene partners in affection when they return to their seats until Mrs. Brown tells him to knock it off.

Kevin gets another chance playing Barnaby alongside James Church and later he too plays Horace alongside Nabulungi.

“My age! My age! You’re always talking about my age!” Kevin exclaims and he’d like to think it’s going a lot better than his first reading.

“Well, I don’t know what your age is, but I do know that up in Yonkers with bad food and bad temper you’ll double it in six months.” Nabulungi rebuttals, “Have some more beets! They’re good for you!”

“I don’t like beets!” Kevin replies, “I hate beets!”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Brown says, her pen moving across her clipboard and Kevin always feels like’s cut short but he doesn’t dare say anything.

Whispered conversations ensue in the audience, some kids reading lines to prepare for their time on stage, others trying desperately to pass the time.

“That was a lot better.” Connor smiles, setting a hand on Kevin’s arm as he returns to his seat. He seems to have regained his earlier pep.

“It’s still not perfect.” Kevin sighs and Connor moves to take Kevin’s hands in his, looking him dead in the eye.

“It’s not supposed to be perfect. It’s only callbacks. None of us know the words.” Connor assures him before he breaks into a smile, laughter bubbling out of him as he lets go of Kevin’s hands and sinks back into his seat. “Just wait until we have to sight sing. It’s like drunk karaoke.”

That doesn’t make Kevin feel any better, but he tries to keep his chin up because Connor is upbeat and loose. Which means it’s not all bad. He also vaguely wonders how Connor knows what drunk karaoke sounds like, because Kevin sure doesn’t but he doesn’t dwell on it. 

Nabulungi is the next to congratulate him, leaning over the back of her chair to engage in conversation, “That was really good, Kevin Price. Do not be so hard on yourself, it is your first show after all.” She reaches to squeeze his knee in reassurance and Kevin appreciates how friendly everyone seems to be.

It’s weird to feel both alienated and unconditionally loved by people you don’t know all that well. For the longest time it was just Kevin and Arnold against the world and honestly, Kevin’s world wasn’t all that big. Now that it’s expanding, he’s not sure how to feel.

“I’m thinking pizza afterwards, are you in, Kevin?” Connor proposes with a little nudge as Mrs. Brown sets up for the singing portion. 

Kevin snaps back to the conversation, no Arnold to remind him that his bouts of spiraling thoughts often lead to him staring off into space. “I have to drive Arnold home. He was nice enough to wait in the library this whole time.”

“Arnold Cunningham?” Nabulungi asks, “Bring him with. I know him from my drawing class.”

“Maybe Alex Michaels can convince him to join crew.” Connor smiles, turning to point towards the control booth in the back of the auditorium. Kevin hadn’t noticed that there was a kid up there until now much like Alex was oblivious to the fact that the group was now looking at him as he scrolled through his phone.

“He says he’ll only join crew if I make it into the musical.” Kevin says, remembering their brief conversation from the day before.

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret,” Connor says lowering his voice, “if you made it to callbacks you made it into the show. Mrs. Brown does all her chopping on audition day, which is a little unconventional, but for better or worse everyone in this room has a role.”

Kevin’s sure the ‘or worse’ is in reference to Steve, but he’s not going to be the one to point it out. He’ll just add it to the list of things better left unsaid.

Before long Mrs. Brown begins to mix and matches scene partners like she had before, asking them to sight sing songs from the show and Connor was right - it is a lot like drunk karaoke. But Kevin makes it out alive, albeit a little embarrassed and he collects Arnold from the library. Just as he suspected, his best friend has no qualms about joining the group for dinner.

“Arnold, you know you can sit in the auditorium.” Connor says, holding the door to the pizza place for the pair. He’d been waiting in his car for someone else to arrive before he went inside. 

Kevin’s realized that Connor can make conversation with anyone. Kevin likes to think of himself as pretty extroverted and a good conversationalist, but he always overthinks what he’s going to say before he says it whereas Connor is much more laid back and sociable. Granted, Kevin has a bad habit of comparing himself to others.

“I didn’t know.” Arnold confesses, “I didn’t want to interfere.”

“We wouldn’t exile you.” Connor says, squeezing Arnold’s shoulder as he brushes past to start rearranging the furniture, like he’s done this a thousand times before.

The lighting is kind of dim and there’s a fire place roaring. Kevin takes in the scenery and the log-cabin feel as Nabulungi sidles up next to him. “I know the deer is dead, but it’s eyes follow me every time I am here.” She says, pointing to one of the few deer heads on the wall. She shrugs and moves to take her coat off as she chooses a seat at Connor’s makeshift table.

“Was Nabulungi telling you about the deer?” Kimbay asks, startling Kevin who had taken to wearily eyeing the deer. “She is full of stories.”

He lets Kimbay push him into a seat in between herself and Sadaka.

“Chris isn’t coming.” James says, rubbing his hands together as he joins the table. The temperature outside was dropping when Kevin and Arnold arrived and Kevin doesn’t doubt its only grown colder.

There’s a lot going on and Kevin’s trying to keep everything straight. There’s a lot of new faces to keep track of.

Connor frowns as James sheds his coat, laying it over the back of his chair as he takes the spot next to Arnold. “Is everything okay?” Connor asks, tapping his fingers against the wood table.

“Yeah, Laura just wanted to have dinner with him is all.” James replies, looking around the table. 

“Can I get you guys started on any drinks or appetizers?” A waitress asks, momentarily disrupting the conversation.

Drink orders are rattled off and Connor claims the french fries are to die for so he orders a couple baskets to pass and they wait for the latecomers. 

Elijah and Alex arrive within minutes of each other and most notably Steve remains uninvited.

“This isn’t everyone.” Connor clarifies for Arnold and Kevin as he shovels fries into his mouth, “There’s usually a couple more techies, but they weren’t asked to come in for the callback.”

“Unlike you, we don’t have to audition for every show.” Alex says pointedly, reaching for the basket of fries that Connor is hoarding. Kevin recognizes Alex from a couple classes and he thinks he knows Elijah, but mostly he just feels bad for having been so unobservant before joining theatre.

“Arnold was thinking about joining.” Connor says, dusting off his hands on a napkin and reaching for his soda.

“You should.” Alex swallows, “We always need people.”

Arnold smiles, putting his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’m sold.”

Kevin’s glad that now he and his best friend are in the thick of it — together, like they should be.

Pizzas are ordered and slices are passed around the table as lively conversation is had. Kevin finds that he feels less out of place than he did before.

“Well.” Connor yawns his face flushed from the warmth of the nearby fire. He pushes himself away from the table, moving to check a watch he clearly doesn’t have. “I should probably get back home. We’ve got another long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“And an AP Chem test.” Sadaka reminds him.

He points at her as he stretches, “And an AP Chem test. That I am going to fail.”

James stands too, clapping Connor on the back. “Give Chris a goodnight kiss from me, yeah?” 

Everyone laughs, except for Kevin and Arnold who don’t get whatever joke is being made. And they all make to clean up and leave after pitching in varying amounts of cash to cover the expenses.

“Everyone seems really nice.” Arnold comments as Kevin drives him home.

“They’re very welcoming.” Kevin agrees, “They just have a lot of inside jokes, I suppose.”

It’s silent for a couple minutes, save for Arnold humming along to the radio before Kevin asks, “Find any inspiration for your new book?”

“No,” Arnold confesses, “I was haunted by the only idea you ever give me — and no, I am not writing anything about you and Disney.”

Kevin rolls his eyes, “We were like 12 the last time you wrote something like this and all I said was you could replace Hans Solo with me and Middle-Earth with Disney.”

Arnold turns to him incredulously.

“Stop gawking at me, I’m driving.” Kevin replies, glancing at him. He groans, relenting, “Fine. What did I say wrong this time?”

“So many things.” Arnold replies sinking back into his chair, “So many things were wrong with what you just said to me and seeing as you just pulled into my neighborhood we’re going to have to save this conversation for tomorrow but mark my words, Kevin, I will educate you.”

Kevin sighs pulling into Arnold’s driveway. “Fine. Is Friday looking like a movie night?”

“Yes, my good friend Kevin, it most certainly is.” Arnold says, reaching into the backseat for his backpack.

Kevin nods, waving to Arnold as he makes the trek up the front porch. He rolls down the window, “Butter or Movie Theater Butter?” 

“Movie.” Arnold replies, “It’s a movie night!”

Kevin expects to spend the rest of the evening unwinding. Social outings take a lot out of him because he always has to be on. He has to know what to say and how to act and there’s no slowing down when he has to live up to everybody else’s expectations.

The front porch light is on when Kevin gets home, but the lights are out inside and it’s not unreasonable for everyone to have gone to bed before 10PM. Kevin never stays out this long, he feels like a new man. 

He hangs up his backpack and coat on his designated hook and leaves his shoes amongst the slew of discarded shoes at the door.

“We’ve been expecting you, Kevin.” Jack says, seated in the darkness and Kevin has to cover his mouth to keep from waking everyone up with his scream.

“You’re a creep.” He informs his brother, “Why’re you sitting in the dark?”

Jack reaches to turn the floor lamp on beside the couch, shrugging in response.

“You were lonely.” Kevin accuses, with a smile, “And you missed me.”

Jack rolls his eyes at the idea. Missing his family? Him? Never. “Why do you seem to think I have some ulterior motive? I just wanted to know how callbacks went.”

Kevin sinks into the couch across from Jack, “Connor says that everyone who makes it to callbacks gets cast.”

“That’s good.” Jack smiles, interjecting with the customary conversation chatter to show he’s listening.

“Yeah, but I don’t feel like I did a good job. I felt like everyone else knew how to become whoever they were reading for and I was just reading the words on the page.” Kevin sighs, “And don’t even get me started on the singing, it was like drunk karaoke.”

“Nobody’s seen the words before Kevin.” Jack says pointedly, “And it’s your first time. You really need to learn to cut yourself some slack. Was the pizza good at least?”

“Yeah,” Kevin smiles, “the pizza was good.”

He doesn’t understand how so many people around him can just be so casual about everything: Jack, Arnold, Connor. Nobody seems to worry about anything, taking everything as it comes. But Kevin would lose his mind if he didn’t plan ahead and anticipate outcomes.

“How’s Arnold, you haven’t had him over lately?” Jack asks, and Kevin thinks Jack’s a little lonely living so far away from all his friends and having to commute back and forth to school. Although, Jack and Kevin always got on better than Jack and Ethan did; and Kevin suspects that Jack might be the one to lose it if he had to be subjected to Ethan’s perfection day in and day out without the balance of Kevin’s mess, or Hannah’s wisdom or Colin’s comedic chops.

Kevin can only hope that one day he’ll be as good and effortless a mormon as Ethan, Maybe theatre was a step in the right direction. Helping him to branch out and talk to people he doesn’t know all that well. “Arnold’s good.” He says after a moment of thinking, “He has to write a story but he doesn’t have any original ideas and we’re having a movie night because I messed up the terminology — again.”

Jack draws a fake scandalized gasp and Kevin laughs in response before his phone chimes with an unfamiliar ringtone. “What was that?”

“Facebook.” Kevin replies, moving to pull his phone from his pocket. He stops short, looking to Jack. “I think it’s the cast list.”

“Well, let’s see if you’re a tree!” He replies, “C’mon!”

Kevin smiles, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and unlocks his phone. “Barnaby Tucker.” He reads aloud and suddenly he’s conflicted.

“What’s the face for?” Jack asks, eyebrows knitted together, “You’re acting like you just read the words Evergreen #2 or Spruce #6.”

Kevin rugs on that fake smile again, but he’s raw and honest with Jack and although the smile is fake it’s also confused.

“Kevin, talk to me.” Jack prods.

“I’m the side-kick.” He explains, “Connor told me that Barnaby is young and naive and full of wonder and- and I think I’m going to have to kiss a girl?”

Jack moves to put his hands on Kevin’s shoulders as if to shake him from his thoughts, “You’re an actor now.”

And Kevin knows he’s overreacting and he knows that Jack knows this too and he feels guilty that he’s reacting like this, but suddenly he really doesn’t think he can do it. Maybe he’ll talk to Mrs. Brown at lunch tomorrow and ask her to take him off the list. He just really doesn’t think he can play someone so different from himself.

“Hey,” Jack says softly, “stop overthinking it. Channel that same energy you get when you talk about going to Disney when you were nine. You were young and full of wonder then and all you wanted to do back then was be like me and Ethan.And kissing girls? That’s the easy part. Just cross that bridge when you get to it and do not freak yourself out, okay? I’ll help you practice your lines, let’s just go to bed.”

“Not the kiss.” Kevin says numbly, standing as Jack does.

Jack snorts, throwing his arm over his brother’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t kiss you in a million years for a billion dollars, Kev.”

Kevin wrinkles his nose in agreement.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcomed and appreciated. And if there’s something you want to see, I’m pretty good about trying to incorporate it in some capacity if it relates to the plot! Much love and thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin finds himself going out of his way to connect with his new theatre family outside of rehersal. The cast attends their first read through, Chris makes another announcement, Arnold opens up movie night to the whole cast and Connor helps Kevin get fitted for future costumes. Ethan visits from BYU and indirectly provides Kevin with some introspection that leads to another heartfelt conversation with Jack. This time they discuss religion and the differences in approval in the eyes of Heavenly Father and approval in the eyes of their Church.

Now that Kevin has taken the time to expand his world, he notices people. He notices Elijah Zelder in his anatomy class, Kimbay in his speech class and Alex Michaels in his psych class — and they notice him too, throwing smiles at him from across the room. He sees Connor in the hallways between classes and he makes a habit of saying a quick, “Hello!” whenever he sees these people.

“How was that Chem test?” Kevin asks as Connor finds him in the hallway.

Connor rolls his eyes exaggeratedly in response, leaning into Kevin as they walk, “We are not going to talk about it. Congratulations, Barnaby.”

Kevin smiles. He swells with pride that at the very least he made it through the audition part and got cast, but there’s still a nagging voice in the back of his mind that tells him he’ll be a horrible Barnaby. He doesn’t tell Connor this though, because he thinks Connor got the part he wanted. “And congrats to you too, Cornelius.”

Connor goes to say something, before he stops himself. He turns to walk backwards in the hallway, poking Kevin in the chest. “I went to make a musical reference just now, but knowing you won’t get it, I won’t waste my breath until we waterboard you with musical soundtracks at rehearsals.”

“Thanks?” Kevin replies, confused as Connor spins around and offers a small wave as he ducks into his next class.

Kevin’s not completely void of theatre knowledge. He knows Disney musicals, of course. But he also knows the Sound of Music and Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat — some of theatre’s more bible-oriented offerings. But Connor didn’t even give him the chance to take a wild guess.

“You seem happy.” Mrs. Brown comments as lunch, “Does it have anything to do with your part?”

Kevin shovels the leftovers of the dinner he missed the night before into his mouth, nodding to keep from divulging the same things he had to Jack the night before.

“Love it.” He supplies, when she looks at him with her eyebrow cocked. “I’m excited.”

He stumbles through the rest of his day, waving at the people he’s come to know as he passes them in the hallway. Breaking out of his shell, however hard it is. And finally he makes it to rehearsal, Arnold in tow. His days seem different now that there’s something to work towards.

Chris is standing on the stage when everyone arrives. Connor, already lounging in what Kevin suspects is his ‘usual’ spot. In front of the stage, but not too close to Mrs. Brown’s open ears and close enough to the stage door.

“He has an announcement to make.” Connor explains, pointing to his friend as Kevin and Arnold set their bags down. “It’s not as depressing as his last one, I promise.”

Mrs. Brown nods for him to begin as the girls file in together and the cast fills out.

“I want to apologize in advance,” Chris begins, wringing his hands together, “I know that for our veteran actors and Mrs. Brown that auditions have been weird without a stage manager. I, unfortunately, cannot fill that role because of my current situation. So, I have appointed Zach and Stephen to take my place and I’ve spent some time training both of them. Now, I don’t have any intention to abandon you all, I just couldn’t fully commit myself to the show this time around. I’ll still be around — with my annoying little kit and my snacks. But I just wanted everyone to know that Zach Davis and Stephen Schrader will be taking my place for Dolly.”

He smiles, offering a small wave before he moves to jump off the stage and rejoin Connor. Connor’s stood to give him a standing ovation as he had the day before to those who’d read lines.

“Mr. Thomas,” Mrs. Brown comments, “there are stairs on this stage for a reason.”

“Right.” Chris responds, with an innocent smile.

“Can I have everyone find a seat around the table on stage?” Mrs. Brown requests, “And use the stairs, please.”

Everyone shuffles out of the comfortable auditorium seats and into the metal chairs set up around the table.

“We’re gonna read through the script today. No acting required.” Zach says from the head of the table. He looks to Chris for approval, who only nods for him to continue.

“And we’ll listen to a professional cast recording.” Stephen adds, seated next to him, “You can sing along if you want, but we’ll work more on that at a later rehearsal.”

Kevin realizes that the cast is much bigger than Connor’s core group. He suspects that maybe they’re freshman or inexperienced like himself — or worst case scenario they’re Steve supporters. Though, whatever feud had brewed between Steve and Connor the day before was tabled for the read through as they consciously sat as far away from one another as they could.

Nabulungi launches into her opening monologue after the first song is played, Zach and Stephen stumbling through reading stage directions with Chris’ careful guidance.

Kevin finds himself playing opposite the lines he’d read for the day before, saying inane things like, “Holy cabooses!”

Chris makes comments the whole way through and for someone who stepped back from the stage manager position, Kevin thinks he’s doing much of the heavy lifting of Zach and Stephen’s jobs for them. He also realizes that Chris probably didn’t want to step back and needs a distraction, all the same he just can’t commit.

All of his focus on those around him, leads to a couple gentle reminders. “Kevin, line.” Connor whispers next to him.

Snapped to attention Kevin looks down to his script to see none other than, “Holy cabooses!” staring back at him.

They wrap up the read through, without promise of a dinner like the night before. During the supposed intermission Chris had ran to the box office and returned with boxes of Pop-Tarts.

“They’re his staple piece.” Connor had explained to Kevin, “Chris in and of himself is Pop-Tarts. He has a problem and we tried addressing it with an intervention freshman year. Obviously, it went over like a fart in church.”

Kevin can’t help thinking of the image now that it’s been placed in his head, but he takes a Pop-Tart when Chris offers and the cast fills themselves that way.

“Have you gotten fitted yet?” Connor asks, hand over his mouth as chews the last of his Pop-Tart. They’re on their way out of the auditorium, both trying to collect their best friends so they can leave for the night, but Chris is distracted by James Church and Arnold is in the middle of telling Alex Michaels a story. “Asmeret should have stopped you if she hasn’t already.”

Kevin shakes his head and Connor waves a hand, gesturing for Kevin to follow him back to the fine arts hallway.

“Ladies?” Connor knocks on the dressing room doors - and Kevin realizes he’s never seen the interior. There’s two fairly large dressing rooms for each sex adjoined by a large makeup room, each housing wigs and costumes from previous shows. “I bring you Kevin.”

“He’s tall.” A girl comments, appearing out from behind a rack of clothes to grab a tape measure and Kevin assumes that she’s Asmeret. “How tall are you, Kevin?”

“6’2?” Kevin replies.

Asmeret looks up him, “Are you or are you not?”

“I think I am?” Kevin guesses.

Asmeret looks to Connor. “Don’t look at me.” He shrugs, “I don’t know how tall he is. I’m 5’8.”

She rolls her eyes, handing Kevin one edge of the tape measure as she gets down on the floor. “You are 6’2.” She confirms, moving to write it in her notebook. She returns, wrapping her tape measure around Kevin’s waist and varying areas of his body.

“You have a big head.” Connor jokes, watching Asmeret take hat measurements as he sprawls himself out on the dressing room couch.

“And you’re short.” Kevin replies, not one to normally participate in petty insults.

“Oh, God. How will I ever recover from the truth?” Connor says dramatically, clutching his heart. “I think I might just die.”

“Make it quick.” Asmeret comments.

Connor groans exaggeratedly, “My own people turned against me! How could you do this?”

“Die faster, McKinley.” Asmeret says, moving to shoo him off the couch, “Or go home. I’d like to leave now that I have what I need.”

Connor rolls off the couch, standing to pull Asmeret into a hug and thank her for her work. He and Kevin leave to collect their respective best friends.

“Do you want to start dance rehearsals tomorrow?” Connor proposes on their way out of the school building. Kevin was able to find Arnold, but it seems Connor is leaving without Chris.

“So soon?” Kevin responds, because he hardly knows the songs yet. He thinks he has ‘Holy cabooses!’ down pat and he’s unconvinced that he has any other lines in the whole production. He looks to Arnold on his other side to gauge his opinion. “I have to drive Arnold home, though.”

“If I have to take the bus it’s not the end of the world.” Arnold replies, he looks past Kevin to speak to Connor, “Kevin once tried to convince his stats teacher that there was a direct correlation to popularity and bus seating. Those who drove their own cars to school being most popular.”

Connor laughs and Kevin feels a bit like they’re both making fun of him. “Where do I fall?” He asks, “Chris drives me and if Chris leaves I either wait for a public bus or I cue up an Uber.”

“I could drive you home.” Kevin offers.

Connor lifts up the keys he’s been twirling around his fingers. “Chris is my ride, tonight. I’m warming up the car while he bids his boyfriend the longest goodbye in the history of ever.” He nudges Kevin, “That doesn’t answer my question though, where do I fall?”

“My research was rejected on the basis of bias.” Kevin divulges, “And then I had to talk to the teacher after class because he thinks ‘popularity is a construct and to do a statistical study on it would only put others down in my narcissistic attempt to prove that I am on the top of some hypothetical food chain.’”

Connor winces, “Rough, but he made valid points.”

“That I’m narcissistic?” Kevin replies, confused.

“I do get that vibe.” Connor jokes feigning a voice of sheer professionalism, “Tell me, Kevin, are you on the top of the food chain?”

Kevin genuinely thinks about the question as Arnold supplies, “I think a spider could kill him.”

“An Australian spider?” Connor inquires for context.

“A house spider.” Arnold answers at Kevin’s expense.

Kevin glares at the two of them.

“It’s okay, Kevin.” Connor assures him, a hand to his face as he stage whispers, “I’d die too.”

“I’m not on the top of the food chain.” Kevin replies decidedly. “My oldest brother, Ethan, he’s top of the food chain. He’s a good Mormon. He’s engaged. He was valedictorian and now he’s finishing out law school.”

Connor and Arnold’s joking stops abruptly. “Kevin, there’s no food chain. When I said your teacher made points, I was agreeing that popularity is all in our heads. He’s no better than you, you’re just on a different path. Because you’re a different person, leading a different life.” Connor says, “And I’ll take a dumb ride from you, gosh, thanks for peer pressuring me into it.”

Arnold laughs first and Kevin follows because when Arnold laughs he knows that whatever was said was an intended joke that probably flew over his head.

“I’ll get in your dumb Honda if you tutor me in Chemistry.” He counter proposes.

“Isn’t that me just helping you, twice?” Kevin replies.

“I’m helping you dance.” Connor points out, “And I’m keeping you company on your ride home.”

“Fair enough.” Kevin replies and his moment of existentialism has passed.

“I still want to know where I fall in this study.” Connor says after a moment of silence, “Especially now that I’m catching rides with the esteemed Kevin Price.”

Kevin rolls his eyes, “I never got that far. My thought process was that kids who don’t drive, but opt to sit in the back of the bus probably possess more seniority and/or popularity because for some reason school aged children have determined that the back seats are more desired—“

“Stop talking, Kev.” Connor replies, catching Kevin off guard with his familial nickname, “Don’t get analytical, just say I’m very popular and move on.”

“You’re very popular.” Kevin surrenders.

“And if you must know, the back of the bus is desired because you can get away with more.” Connor winks, unlocking Chris’ car.

Kevin looks to Arnold who shrugs in response. “I think he thinks you’re overthinking.”

Kevin groans, unlocking his ‘dumb Honda.’ “So I’ve been told.”

He throws his backpack in the backseat before slipping into the drivers seat. “I was talking to Michaels while you guys did the table read,” Arnold explains, “I’m expanding movie night so you can’t fall asleep after the first movie.” 

“Did you know the only thing I say the whole show is, ‘Holy cabooses!’” Kevin laments in his own interpretation of acknowledging Arnold. 

“You’re also very enthusiastic about a stuffed whale.” Arnold offers.

Kevin groans as he starts the car. He glances at Connor who’s drawing shapes in the fogged up glass of the car beside them and makes the executive decision to honk his horn.

Connor jumps and glares at Kevin through the window. Kevin shoots back a triumphant smile in return.

“You guys are getting along well.” Arnold notes as Kevin pulls out of the parking lot.

“I really like this group of people.” Kevin replies, “I’m mad that I started theatre so late, though.”

“Two days ago you were complaining about it.” Arnold reminds him, “I knew you could do it.”

“I know.” Kevin agrees, “Thanks for always believing in me.”

When Kevin gets home, Ethan’s car is in his parking spot. So, he pulls in tight behind his mom’s car and steals a couple minutes of silence for himself before heading in.

Ethan is just another thing in life that conflicts him. His oldest brother is everything Kevin dreams of becoming, but he’s also incredibly infuriating. He comes home and he steals Kevin’s parking spot and Kevin’s spotlight. And he makes Kevin sleep on the trundle bed after he’s finally earned top bunk privileges. Whenever Ethan’s home, Kevin feels overlooked. He thinks Jack feels that way too, but neither of them really acknowledge it. Jack just jokes about it because that’s how he deals with things and eventually, they both move on.

The front porch light flashes a time or two and Kevin sees Jack standing at the front door; already onto him. With the silence he’d tried to steal for himself cut short, Kevin grabs his bag and heads inside.

“Our little saplings’ returned home!” Jack teases as Kevin toes off his shoes as the front door. Obviously, his brother is basking in the genius of Colin’s tree suggestion. Kevin suspects he’s also looking for someone to save him from Ethan. Because, well, Ethan is everything Kevin wants to be but he’s also sort of everything Jack’s not. Ethan is serious. All the time. And that’s frustrating for Jack who lives life like he’s putting on a comedy routine for the world. Making other people smile is his passion and, whether that requires a joke or just a little compassion, Jack is always on top of it.

“When were you going to tell me you auditioned for the musical, Kev?” Ethan asks, seated at the breakfast nook while their mom preps dinner. Kevin rolls his sleeves to jump in and help, his mother ushering him to the sink first.

“I-“ Kevin stutters out, because he doesn’t have an excuse, “I was waiting for it to all seem real, I guess.”

“Well go on, tell us what part you’re playing.” Ethan eggs him on and Kevin finally registers that he’s got his fiancé, Sarah, seated next to him. “Jack keeps spouting nonsense about Pine #4 and Willow #7.”

Jack rolls his eyes so only Kevin can see and Kevin shoots him a smile. He didn’t appreciate the tree jokes until Ethan started dampening Jack’s light.

It’s a weird line he toes. He wants to be good and devout and respected like Ethan. But he doesn’t want to indirectly put others down and Kevin tries so hard to keep his superiority complex in line — at least he has people like Jack and Arnold and even Connor, who keep him in line. Ethan just bulldozes over people and thinks it’s okay, but Kevin’s not sure if they were raised that way or if that’s just what Ethan turned into during his mission and his time away from school.

“I’ll tell everyone over dinner.” He decides, refraining from feeding into Ethan’s want for instant gratification. Deep down Kevin knows that if the roles were reversed he’d want to know right away too, but maybe recognizing someone else’s faults will help him to fix his own.

He thinks more about the top of the food chain question he’d posed earlier as he helps his mom make dinner. Maybe Ethan’s at the top of his food chain not because he worked hard to get there, but rather because he’s a threat to Kevin’s existence. If Kevin wants to a betterment of the good things Ethan is; he has to figure out how to surpass the lion as a meager house cat. But first he has to realize that being a house cat — or a Barnaby Tucker — isn’t all that bad.

“So!” Jack grins over dinner and after grace, like he doesn’t already know, “What’s the part?”

“Barnaby Tucker.” He replies and he really tests his acting chops, feigning pride until he can fool himself into forgetting any qualms he had about the part. “My friend Connor plays Cornelius and I’m sort of like Cornelius’ sidekick—“

“We’ve all seen the movie, Kev.” Ethan cuts him off in a condescending tone and it really reminds Kevin to appreciate how well he and his other siblings get along even despite their occasional disagreements. He’s really starting to rethink everything now that Ethan’s sitting here in front of him. It’s easier to idolize someone when you aren’t constantly inundated with their shortcomings. 

“I haven’t seen the movie?” Kevin replies, eyebrows furrowed.

“Ethan, you’re literally the only one who’s seen the movie.” Jack speaks up, “Let Kevin talk.”

“It’s got Barbra Streisand, how have you not seen the movie?” Ethan responds, miffed.

“I haven’t seen plenty of movies.” Kevin fights back, “That’s why Arnold and I are having a movie night on Friday. Cause I misquoted Star Wars, or something. But that’s not the point. I don’t even remember what I was saying, never mind.”

“You were telling us about your character, Kevin.” His mother says politely.

“Yeah, he just says ‘Holy cabooses!’ and wants to see the stuffed whale when they visit New York.” Kevin shuts down.

“Well,” Ethan clears his throat, “Sarah and I—“

“Ethan,” Mr. Price finally cuts off his eldest, “I explicitly told you earlier not to overshadow your brother’s moment. Whatever you have to say can wait for another day. If Kevin doesn’t have anything further to add, then so be it, but your news can wait.” 

Ethan scoffs and Kevin thinks a fight might break out. He’s grateful his dad defended him, but he knows Ethan doesn’t like being told what to do especially now that he’s 26.

That’s another thing— Kevin doesn’t always feel heard in his own home, especially by his dad who Ethan bears some resemblance too. But on occasion his dad really lets him know that he has his back. Kevin’s just always been his mother’s child.

“I don’t have anything more to add.” Kevin says quietly, “Thank you.”

“Tell me about Barnaby.” Jack says later that night as they discard the pillows on the downstairs couch to pull out the hide-a-bed. Now that Ethan has a girlfriend they routinely get kicked out of their own room, but sleeping on the hide-a-bed is nothing new and it’s a relief from family gatherings where they’re made to sleep on the floor. “And play practice in general. God, Ethan is such a dick sometimes.”

“Don’t say God’s name in vein.” Kevin says absentmindedly out of habit as he pulls the sheet corners tight. They start piling throw pillows on to build the customary barricade in between their respective sides — a tradition since childhood. He sighs, admiring his work as Jack tosses a stray pillow at him.

“Are you feeling any better about your part?” He inquires, because he genuinely cares.

“I think I’m starting to like it more just to spite Ethan.” Kevin admits, “He’s really rather daft though.”

“Nine year old Kevin.” Jack teases as a reminder, in a way that doesn’t make him feel like he’s being out right attacked like he had at dinner.

“You know.” Kevin sighs, flopping onto his side of the bed. Jack props his elbows on the pillow barricade to look down at his brother. “Ever since I was little I really liked the idea of following in Ethan’s footsteps. He’s got a successful life and he’s everything the Church expects of him. And I know I’m just not cut out to be as loose and easy-going as you are, but Ethan was really rude tonight.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Jack whispers, “but he’s my least favorite brother.”

“Who’s your favorite?” Kevin asks, interest piqued. 

“Hannah.” Jack jokes and Kevin laughs.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s just tired of us.” Kevin shrugs, “I mean everyone deserves people, right? And we have to be nice to everyone. Just because we’re not his kind of people doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve to have people in his corner. Maybe he’s just not a family man. Maybe he feels obligated to visit.”

“You’re so insightful sometimes.” Jack responds, “He’s got Sarah.” 

Kevin nods. “Connor told me that I’m too analytical.”

“I think that’s the professional way of telling you that you overthink everything.” Jack replies, “I’ve been trying to tell you this for a while.”

“But I don’t know how to stop.” Kevin groans.

“It’s not a bad thing.” Jack says, “In moderation. You’re really good at planning events because you overthink. But you also get in your own way when you worry too much about the outcome.”

Kevin sighs, running a hand down his face.

“I know you don’t like hearing this.” Jack says after a moment, “But I think you worry too much about what Heavenly Father thinks. Heavenly Father loves you, Kevin and he’ll still love you even if you mess up a little bit. I think a lot of people forget that. Forgetting to brush your teeth, or what have you, isn’t like murdering someone. You’re allowed to mess up, you’re human.”

“Jack.” Kevin says after a couple minutes of thinking about what his brother’s said, “Connor is gay.”

“Okay?” Jack replies, settling back into the pillow barricade.

“I don’t want to pry, but I don’t think his family accepts him.” Kevin explains, “And I feel bad for him, but I’ve never really thought about it, you know? I don’t want to be close minded just because the Church maintains that marriage should occur between a man and a woman.”

“Heavenly Father loves all his children, Kev.” Jack replies, “If Connor’s religious, I think Heavenly Father knows and he accepts it and I think he would want us to be kind. I think the Church is an institution with guidelines structured by interpretable text. I think you’re a rule follower and you want to do what the Church says, but the Church has been wrong before. I think Heavenly Father is actually really progressive.” 

Kevin nods in thought, staring up at the ceiling. Jack’s not wrong. Their church struggled and continues to struggle with matters of racism and maybe this is just another minority extension of problems. Kevin doesn’t think it’s fair, but he’s grounded enough to realize the world isn’t fair.

“Thanks, Jack.” Kevin smiles, “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

“You too, Kev.” Jack replies switching off the light, “Ignore Ethan, alright? We’re proud.”

Shrouded in darkness, Kevin bothers to ask, “What do you think his announcement was?”

“Do you think she’s pregnant?” Jack responds with a question of his own.

“They aren’t married.” Kevin points out.

“Maybe he’s not all he’s cracked up to be.” Jack muses with a yawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to include the first dance practice, but I fell into another good groove with Jack and Kevin. I think they really get each other despite how different they are and whether Kevin realizes it or not, he’s got a lot of people in his corner. 
> 
> Also, lucky you guys! My school cancelled tomorrow and temperatures are supposed to drop to -56 for the rest of the week so I will (probably) have plenty of time to write! I’m glad you guys are liking this as much as I am, because I was a little scared when I started but the feedback has been so positive. (Especially in regard to Kevin and Jack - they really ended up being the duo no one expected but everyone loves and I think closing the chapters with them getting to a deep, comfortable understanding of one another has accidentally become really instrumental to the plot.) 
> 
> As always, comments are open for ideas or requests. If there’s a high school experience you need to see Kevin conquer, let me know. I think Kevin realized a lot this chapter and slowly but surely we’ll start dealing with more emotional things in terms of Chris’ sister and Connor’s home life. Much love.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin has an in depth discussion with his mom that makes him appreciate her a whole lot more. He attends his first dance lesson with Connor and Connor finds he fits in with the Price family when Kevin offers to help him study after dinner. They find themselves using one another’s words against each other in the most endearing of ways, the closer they get. Movie Night rolls around and Kevin is exposed to Cards Against Humanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: I didn’t want to spoil it in the tags, but Kevin does start to realize that Connor’s family disowned him. Connor hasn’t explicitly confirmed or denied this yet, but he has hinted at it and Kevin tries to determine if he can inquire about it.

Despite Kevin’s “day” having passed, whatever Ethan has wanted to say at dinner the night before hadn’t cropped up at breakfast. Jack and Kevin shared a look from across the table with a sideways glance at Sarah; maybe she wasn’t pregnant? Was it rude if Kevin snuck a peak at her plate to gauge if she was eating for two?

Kevin struggles with contradictions; part of the reason he overthinks everything. Faithfully, he believes that to be Prophet he can’t mess up in the slightest. When he was younger he had once told Jack about his dream to grow up and become Prophet; good-naturedly Jack has poked fun of the idea. His little brother? A Prophet? But that good-natured teasing had kept Kevin from telling anyone else his dream. So, Kevin worked hard to an endgame nobody understood.

With this hard work, contradictions ensue. Kevin is not a fortune teller, so he takes to worrying about the outcome of events — overthinking. Because if he can control all of his reactions to an event, with the perceived notion that he is being scrutinized and judged by everyone for his every move, then he can’t mess up. So, Kevin focuses a lot on what he does on the exterior. He worries a lot about what he says to people and the way in which he reacts to news. Because Heavenly Father is always watching and he’s probably got a checklist of standards Kevin has to adhere to if he ever wants to become Prophet.

But he hasn’t learned to curb his thoughts. Internally he thinks a lot of less than kind thoughts about people, but not intentionally. He makes gut reactions and assumptions and then spends his days trying to backpedal and correct himself. That’s why he swallows regret with his breakfast after sneaking a look at Sarah’s plate. It’s not his business if she’s pregnant or just hungry. Needless to say, Kevin spends a lot of time in his own head - reprimanding himself.

He makes sure that whatever unkindly or condescending thoughts he thinks scarcely make themselves to the surface. Kevin ends up holding his tongue most days, on the brink of revealing himself to be an imperfect person. Whatever mental filter this is, Ethan clearly doesn’t possess it.

“Kev,” His mother grabs his attention when he joins her at the sink after breakfast, “what’re your plans for after school?”

“Like today or in the future?” Kevin asks, breaking away from his thoughts and realizing he’s been chewing at his nails again.

“Today.” Mrs. Price responds.

“Connor’s going to give me those dance lessons.” Kevin answers, “He wanted help with Chemistry so I was thinking maybe he could join us for dinner?”

“That’s fine.” She nods, “Let him know I’m making chicken pot pie, but we have plenty of leftovers. And your brother is going to be leaving before you get home, so say goodbye to him and Sarah.”

Kevin falters, checking the kitchen to see who still lingers. “Connor, uhm, struggles with same sex attraction,” he confesses unsure which way his family leans because he’s never engaged in a conversation on the topic, “is that going to be a problem?”

Mrs. Price dries her hands off on the hand towel before cupping Kevin’s face in her hands. “That’s not a problem, Kev.”

“I think he doesn’t get a lot of support.” Kevin continues, “And Jack and I talked last night about how Heavenly Father is perhaps more accepting than the Church in some regards.”

“Unfortunately,” Mrs. Price smooths her hands over her jeans, “your brother is right. But we can make a conscious effort to accept all of Heavenly Father’s children, just as he would. And maybe one day the Church will see things our way.”

“Why do we believe in something so unforgiving?” Kevin asks, leaning back against the sink.

Mrs. Price moves to grab Kevin’s hands. “We believe in the teachings and we put our faith in Heavenly Father. We don’t believe in the Church. It’s kind of convoluted, I know, but you’ll understand in time. It can be hard to grasp at first.”

She smiles fondly, “I was raised in a household where religion was only really important during the holidays that embraced it. I didn’t go to Church, I didn’t have seminary classes — and then I met your father and we grew close and I decided to convert myself to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.”

“You did that for Dad?” Kevin asks, unfamiliar with this particular piece of family history. Maybe he hadn’t paid enough attention or maybe he just assumed that his mother had been born a member of the Church just as he had.

“Well he couldn’t date anyone outside of the Church and I liked him enough to educate and commit myself.” She answers, “He took me to Church with his family. Then he left for mission and I waited patiently back home. Here we are now, married with 5 kids and I would do it all over again.”

Kevin smiles as his mother leans up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I think I raised 5 beautiful kids and I think that maybe we’re more accepting than others because of my history.”

“Why didn’t I know this before?” Kevin asks, he wants to think he’s really close to his family, but now he’s not so sure.

Mrs. Price shrugs, “When I started having kids it became less about me and more about you guys. There’s no possible way I could tell you everything I’ve done in my 49 years of life. You all have your own lives to live.”

Inadvertently, his mom has cleared up some things that Kevin always wondered about. Like why Church activities were limited to only their small family unit as opposed to inviting their grandparents and aunts and uncles. He’d wondered how it had never come up before, but he supposed his mother’s family participated in things like saying grace before meals because it was relatively harmless or universal to whatever religion they practiced and holidays were always split between Price family Church activities and familial activities, like brunches or dinners. He finds that he has a newfound respect for him mom too, realizing all that she did to get him where he is.

Before he leaves, his mother reaches to squeeze his hand, “Invite Connor for dinner. He’s been gracious enough to help you with your dancing the least we can do is give him a good meal.”

* * *

 

“Dinner at your house?” Connor asks, watching himself in the floor length mirrors of the wrestling/dance room as he stretches. He looks back at Kevin whose awkwardly lingering. “Are you going to stretch or are you going to pull something?”

“Stretch.” Kevin answers dumbly as he joins Connor on the floor, “And yeah, my mom is making chicken pot pie.”

“How is it that I go four years without knowing you and now you’re here demanding all of my time?” Connor asks as he twists to face Kevin, allowing a moan when his back makes a satisfying cracking noise, “First I have to see your mug at rehearsals. Then at dance rehearsals. Then you’re offering to drive me home and tutor me and now you want me to eat dinner with your family and Arnold is trying to convince me to watch Star Wars with you guys. Which, for the record, I am coming to movie night because Arnold is too nice for me to ever let down but not because I want to watch Star Wars. But I will, for him. I don’t know about you Kevin, but I think we’re moving a little too fast.”

Whatever Connor is insinuating flies over Kevin’s head. He’s never made time in his life for attraction and thus he’s never made time in his life to understand anything in the realm of flirting or dating; much to Connor’s disappointment. Kevin always perceived love as a distraction from his dream of becoming Prophet. Though, Connor routinely finds himself batting at Kevin for his own enjoyment in hopes that he’ll get the hint. Then again, Chris always remarks how Connor is up for jovially flirting with anyone. Connor doesn’t see a problem with it.

“You don’t have to come to dinner.” Kevin remarks.

“What? No.” Connor replies, twisting away from Kevin to loosen his back, “Now I want chicken pot pie. It’s better than ramen or whatever Chris brings me from the hospital cafeteria.”

Kevin finds himself biting his tongue. Does he have enough context clues to assume he lives with Chris? Is it too early? Is it unfair? Can you even ask someone a question like that?

“Why is your face doing that?” Connor asks.

“It’s just my face?” Kevin responds.

“It was an ugly face, Kevin.” Connor responds, “I hold you to a gold star standard.”

“What do you want me to say?” Kevin retorts, taking on a mocking tone, “Won’t happen again.”

Connor rolls his eyes, moving to stand. “Just stretch.”

In the time that Chris was supposed to spend before auditions helping Mrs. Brown, Connor had spent with the choreographer learning and recording a brunt of the dances. There were specialized character dances he’d learn at a different time, but what Kevin really needed were the basics.

“I believe the lyrics go, ‘Whatever you do for God’s sake keep breathing.’” Connor says halfway through a dance sometime later. He’s sweating but alive, whereas Kevin feels like he’s barely hanging on.

With his hands on his knees, Kevin takes an exaggerated breath in.

“What gym class are you in, Kevin?” Connor inquires, watching Kevin’s pathetic display.

“Fall and Spring PE.” He wheezes.

“Oh my God, go to the drinking fountain if you’re gonna die.” Connor says, gesturing to the one available next to the door. Kevin refrains from reprimanding him about using the Lord’s name in vain, but only because he can hardly speak as it is.

Connor hasn’t made an effort to say he’s getting better, but beside their current setback, Kevin feels confident that he won’t kill anybody on stage. Though, he’s not blind to the fact there’s still a long road ahead.

“You know you’re gonna have to sing and dance, right?” Connor asks, following him to the drinking fountains.

“And you know I’ve never danced before, right?” Kevin replies, water dripping off his chin. He lifts the bottom of his shirt to wipe away the water and the sweat.

Connor blinks at him, shaking his head as if to shake himself from a momentary daze. “You’ve made it incredibly obvious.”

They both nod in understanding of one another and head back to the main floor.

* * *

 Kevin’s car is immaculate, even despite it’s age. “Is that citrus?” Connor sniffs, playing with the air freshener tacked onto the vents. He shrugs, moving to tug on his seatbelt, “You’re gonna need it now that you smell like a men’s locker room.”

Kevin offers a halfhearted laugh, chugging the rest of his refilled water bottle before he offers the AUX cord, wordlessly to Connor and moves to pull out of the parking lot.

Connor laughs like a little kid, fumbling to plug the AUX cord into his phone. “You have no idea what you’ve done, Kevin Price.”

In a matter of seconds, unfamiliar music is playing through the speakers of his car, Connor fumbling to find the perfect volume.

“Did I abuse her or show her disdain?” Connor sings at the top of his lungs and Kevin thinks the seatbelt isn’t doing much to keep him from adapting seated choreography for the song. “Why does she run from me? If I should lose her, how shall I regain the heart she has won from me?”

“Agony!” Kevin joins in with a smile and Connor is quick to hit the mute button.

“What the fuck.” He says, slapping a hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean to say that— I thought you were a total theatre prude! You know Into The Woods?”

Kevin laughs, “I’m not sheltered.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Connor responds, moving to hurriedly flip through playlists of songs. He keeps looking at Kevin and back down at his phone as if he can gauge if Kevin will know the songs he’s thumbing through. “I tried to play nice.” Connor says as if to apologize for the next song as he unmutes the radio.

At first, Kevin’s astonished that Connor knows all of the words and that he can play every part — and then he’s quickly taken aback by the language. And yeah, maybe he is a little too sheltered for La Vie Boheme, but he lets Connor continue with his shit-eating grin in the passenger seat of his car.

“What was that?” Kevin asks as Connor taps onto the next song. He feels scandalized, violated, maybe? He certainly hasn’t been expecting: that.

“Essential. It was essential for you to hear if we’re going to be friends because it is essential to broadway.” Connor responds, “It is Rent. And I will have my own movie night where you watch the film in its entirety. Mark my words.”

Kevin laughs in response, turning onto his street. “You always use broadway as a threat, as if it were a life sentence. Why don’t you just send me a playlist?”

“Can I trust you to listen to a playlist?” Connor asks, squinting wearily at Kevin.

“Have I given you a reason not to?” Kevin replies, turning the car off.

Connor looks up from his phone, moving to gather his things as he surveys the Price home. “No white picket fence?”

“No.” Kevin answers, “We don’t have any pets either, but my siblings may attack you with questions. I haven’t really hung out with anyone who isn’t Arnold in a long time.”

“Nothing against Arnold, but that’s sad. We’ll change that.” Connor assures him, following him up the front walkway.

“I can take your coat.” Kevin offers as he shuts the front door behind Connor.

“Kevin, did you attend a dance lesson or a swim lesson, you’re soaked.” Jack comments, spinning around in the chair at the breakfast nook that Ethan had occupied the day before.

To anyone who wasn’t Jack, the chair served as the unofficial station of watching everyone else do the work while you lounged around. To Jack it was more like a timeout chair after he repeatedly got banned from the kitchen. He was the King of kitchen disasters. Just the other day he forgot to close the butter compartment in the fridge and in a matter of seconds he’d reopened the fridge and an egg had fallen out of the compartment and onto the floor.

Kevin remained unamused by his brother’s commentary.

“He sweats like a pig.” Connor supplies, looking between both brothers.

“He is a pig.” Jack agrees.

“Thanks.” Kevin says, giving his brother a death glare.

“I happen to find pigs to be cute.” Jack defends himself, “In the sense that they’re not ugly. Not that you’re cute.”

“Teacup pigs are quite adorable.” Connor agrees and there he goes again, easily getting on with anyone. “I— you guys aren’t twins?”

Jack laughs so hard Kevin thinks he might break the chair and get banned from the breakfast nook too.

“Gosh, no. I’m the handsome one.” Jack replies.

Kevin, still rather unamused, rolls his eyes so hard that according to childhood lore they could get stuck in the back of his head. “I’m gonna go change. Do you want a sweater or something to change into?”

“I’ll pet the dog.” Connor jokes, pretending to lean down and stroke an invisible dog that comes up to about his knees. “And sure, I’ll take a sweater or something.”

“Jack.” His brother formerly introduces, sliding off the chair to shake Connor’s hand as Kevin retreats to his room.

When Kevin returns, Connor’s been put to work helping his mother with the dinner. He folds the sweater he’d grabbed for Connor over one of the chairs currently unoccupied by Jack before he launches in to save his new friend. “Connor, you don’t have to do that.”

“I offered my services.” Connor says, waving a dismissive hand, “I’ll have you know that I have more talents than dancing and singing.”

“Kevin, why don’t you offer your services and give me a hand too.” His mother requests.

“I’ll help.” Jack offers and the kitchen breathes a collective, “No!” He sinks back into the chair with his hands up in surrender. “I’ll just sit here then.”

“Good idea.” His mother applauds him.

“So, your mom was telling me about how you want to become a pediatric nurse.” Connor grins, elbowing Kevin.

“Have you thought about what you want to do after high school?” Kevin deflects.

“Well,” Connor begins, “Chris, James and I don’t fit the criteria for a mission anymore. So, I kinda have two years free that I had once planned to fill. College, probably. Broadway is the dream.”

“You were a member of the Church?” Kevin asks.

“Oh yeah.” Connor says, nodding vigorously as if it weren’t blatantly obvious. “My family still is and so is Chris’. I just bide my time elsewhere.” He leave it at that, so Kevin leaves it too.

“What’re you in school for, Jack?” Connor inquires.

“Undecided.” Jack replies, “I’m in my sophomore year of college at BYU so I’ll have to pick something soon, but I’m not particularly passionate about anything.”

“Why don’t you find some passion for setting the table before your Dad gets home?” His mom proposes.

Jack looks to Connor and Kevin, “I don’t think I can make a career out of that but I’ll get right on it.”

“He’s dramatic.” Kevin explains.

“It runs in the family.” Connor says cracking a smile.

* * *

Colin and Hannah don’t embarrass Kevin too much over dinner and after cleaning up, Kevin and Connor find themselves back at the kitchen table with their homework strewn across it. Connor had taken the time to change into Kevin’s sweater before dinner and he keeps fiddling with the sleeves that are just a little bit too long.

“I think I’m just going to buy a shirt with a periodic table on it and wear it on test days.” Connor groans, pushing his homework away to put his head down on the table.

“You?” Kevin double-checks, “In a graphic t-shirt? Even I wouldn’t wear a graphic t-shirt.”

Connor lifts his shoulders in a dramatic sigh.

“Music makes sense to you, right?” Kevin asks, “There’s plenty of people making songs about things like this to help people like you.”

“A song?” Connor asks, “About 118 elements?”

“Yeah, why not.” Kevin shrugs, weaseling his phone out of his pocket to search the Internet.

“I wish I hadn’t taken AP so I could just use the damn table.” Connor whines.

“You’re telling me you can memorize lines but you can’t memorize the periodic table?” Kevin asks without looking up from his phone.

“It’s my Kryptonite.”

“36.” Kevin replies without much thought.

“What?”

“That’s Krypton’s atomic number.”

“Speak English, Kevin.” Connor deadpans.

“On the periodic table, Krypton is number 36.” Kevin explains and Connor stares at him like he’s grown a second head. “Why is your face doing that?” Kevin mocks.

“I don’t know if I should be amazed or terrified.” Connor comments watching Kevin carefully, “And you’re not valedictorian?”

Kevin shakes his head with a small, almost embarrassed, laugh, “No. Definitely not.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Connor says dazedly, echoing the words he’d last said in the car as he rests his elbow on the table.

They stare at each other for a handful of seconds, Kevin fumbling desperately to read Connor’s mind. Can’t he see the imperfection? What he makes up for in Chemistry he lacks in Calculus and so on and so forth.

“The song.” Kevin finally says, placing his phone on the table and hitting play.

“Right.” Connor blinks, moving to cradle Kevin’s phone as he watches the obnoxious video play out, but he can get behind it and soon enough he finds himself humming along.

* * *

Friday comes and rehearsal oozes by slowly as they sit with an accompanist behind the piano. Connor can’t sit still, clutching onto Kevin during songs they sing together. Nabulungi leans into him on his other side and Kevin’s never really been doted on before. He does notice, however, that Connor wore his sweater to school, but he doesn’t really need it back any time soon so he doesn’t bring it up.

Somehow, he ends up with his car filled to capacity after rehearsal. Arnold in the passenger, with Connor, Sadaka, Kimbay and Nabulungi squeezing into the backseat - maybe just a tad bit illegally. And that makes Kevin nervous, but Connor keeps saying they’ll be fine.

Movie night ended up growing exponentially. From just Kevin and Arnold to nearly the entire cast and current necessary crew. It isn’t until later that more of the techies will start to show which means for Kevin - who has to put a lot of effort into social interactions - that this is probably the best it will be.

Some kids arranged to drive themselves home, but most planned to spend the night. Arnold was an only child, so the Cunningham’s were more than willing to host a party in their basement. Even going so far as to provide pizzas and soda.

“He doesn’t know that’s his sister?” Connor asks, head cocked sideways as he watches the flat screen intently. He glances briefly down to pick the sausage off his pizza before raising the slice to his mouth.

“Have none of you seriously seen Star Wars?” Arnold complains.

“I have.” Elijah shrugs, crossing behind the couch to grab another piece of pizza off the coffee table.

Nabulungi speaks up from the couch where she’s pulled one of the throw blankets around herself. “He does not know yet, he finds out in the next movie.”

Arnold looks to her with an appreciative smile and she shoots one back.

“I think I’m gonna be sick if I have to watch one more straight couple kiss.” Connor groans, dumping his unwanted sausage into one of the empty pizza boxes. Notably missing are Chris and James, both spending time with Lauren.

“Do you want to play a game?” Arnold proposes.

“What’re we thinking?” Connor asks, “Spin the bottle? Truth or dare?”

“Can we pause the movie if he is going to run his mouth?” Nabulungi requests.

“I brought Cards Against Humanity.” Alex speaks up, as Arnold fumbles with the remote per Nabulungi’s request.

Connor snorts, looking to Kevin. “I don’t think he can handle it.”

“Sounds like a challenge.” Kimbay grins, looking to gauge Kevin’s reaction.

Kevin’s tired and full and quite frankly bored with the movie. A game sounds like a nice distraction, but he doesn’t know the rules for this one. “If you teach me how to play.” He concedes. 

So, they rearrange the basement and clean up the food. Much to Nabulungi’s disappointment the movie is put on hold and everyone settles in as Alex deals the cards. Connor takes up a spot next to Kevin to help him navigate his first time around. 

“Oh—“ Kevin stammers when he first turns his cards over and Connor cackles beside him.

“Gonna chicken out?” He teases.

“It’s like Apples to Apples.” Arnold tries to explain.

“You’ve played this?” Kevin asks incredulously, “Arnold these words . . .”

“That’s the point.” Arnold assures him.

“I thought you said you weren’t a prude.” Connor comments and Kevin turns red.

“I meant when it came to musicals. I know some musicals, but I— okay. Let’s just play, I guess.” He concedes even though he feels dirty reading those cards. Jack had told him its okay to make mistakes and maybe this was one of them.

Nobody sets a card limit at the top of the game and they soon lose track of time. By the time anyone notices that they’ve been playing for longer than expected, nobody wants to stop despite the fact that they’ve lost a player or two who had to drop out so that they could drive home.

“Kevin are you gonna play a card?” Someone asks and Kevin hadn’t even registered that he’d closed his eyes for a second. He reaches blindly for one of his cards, carelessly tossing it towards the center as someone else reviews the white cards submitted and passes on the black card.

He settles back against the couch he’s been leaning against and the more he tries to will himself to stay awake the harder it is to keep his head from falling onto Connor’s shoulder.

“Can you grab his cards?” Someone asks as Kevin slips in and out of sleep. He thinks it’s Connor who sneaks his cards out of his hand, but he doesn’t make any move to double check his theory. He’s comforted by the hand that Connor’s been running up and down his arm, soothingly scratching at his arm and Kevin doesn’t know how to explain why that feeling is so comforting.

He wakes briefly sometime later, the game ended and the lights off, but the movie’s playing again. He thinks Connor says something to him or maybe in general, but he’s too tired to respond, instead snuffling as he turns into Connor’s warmth. Despite his uncomfortable seated position, the rest of his night goes undisturbed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Jack is a fan favorite and he was really minimal this chapter, but Kevin’s discussion with his mom was really important and I thought it best to end with Kevin and Connor growing closer — literally. 
> 
> I should also probably add that I’m not of the LDS Church and I try to do as much research as I can about certain ideals held and processes and such. Some of it is true to form, some of it has to be molded for the stories sake. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated. Comments are open if you want to see something happen in the story. My ears are wide open to suggestion! Much love. <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: The fate of Pop-Tart’s sister is questioned for most of the Chapter.

TWO WEEKS PASS After movie night.

The cast spends the first week post auditions and read-throughs, memorizing the music and studying their characters and their relations to one another. The next week is spent blocking Act One. As they move into the fourth week of rehearsals, Mrs. Brown expects Act One to be memorized as they start to block Act Two — and Kevin finds it’s not all that hard if you do what’s asked of you and it helps that Barnaby doesn’t have all that much to say.

As the titular character of Dolly Levi, Nabulungi has the most lines, and Kevin is blown away by the fact that she rarely stops to ask for a lead in. Sadaka fumbles as Minnie a time or two, but Kimbay powers through as Irene even if she has to improvise. Connor makes Cornelius look effortless and Elijah plays an astonishing Vandergelder. Connor hasn’t said much on the topic, but Kevin thinks he seems smug to see Steve play Ambrose alongside Kalimba’s Ermengarde. If only for the fact that Ambrose isn’t too large a role.

“Kevin, I have a vest and dress shirt you need to get approved.” Asmeret stops Kevin on his way to Wednesday’s rehearsal, ushering him into the dressing room.

He drops his bag, changing into the shirt and turning as Asmeret directs so she can check the fit. “I heard you and Connor had a fight yesterday.” She says, moving to help him into the vest, smoothing over the buttons.

“Yeah,” Kevin sighs, loosely fixing his hair in the mirror, “it was stupid.”

“It was about makeup.” She reminds him, stopping to meet his eye, “Not even the girls I know would have had such a stupid fight.”

“He’s so dramatic sometimes.” Kevin replies as Asmeret reaches up to fix his collar, “How was I supposed to know I bought the wrong color foundation?”

Asmeret laughs, “You’re dramatic too. I’m sure you can problem-solve your own answer to that question.”

Kevin rolls his eyes, because even if he couldn’t, Connor had listed a thousand different ways he could have color matched his foundation the night before. “I just don’t understand why he got so mad about it.”

“He’s stressed.” Asmeret shrugs as if it’s a valid excuse, which isn’t to say it’s not, but Kevin doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of Connor’s frustrations. “I don’t think he was expecting you to fight back.”

She has a point. Now that Kevin feels comfortable in the group he’s not afraid to fight back, which got him into some hot water when he decided to push back against Connor who, in hindsight, was probably taking out his stress on Kevin. It lead to a tense dance lesson and Connor sitting silent in the passenger seat his whole ride home.

“Look,” Asmeret sighs, feeling a bit sorry for Kevin, “we all know it was a dumb fight and if you know it was stupid, I am sure he does too.”

“In all my life I never thought I’d find myself screaming over a foundation color.” Kevin laughs, trying to find humor in the situation.

“Think about it this way,” Asmeret offers, setting her hand on Kevin’s arm, “he is worried about Chris. There is a lot on his plate right now. He feels like he is failing, he cannot save Lauren and he is still trying to do what he loves. You have to praise him for trying. I don’t think anybody is at fault for whatever happened last night. I think things are piling up and he doesn’t know how to talk about it. He will come around. I am willing to bet money that he will apologize for last night, okay?”

Kevin nods, somewhat comforted by the fact that Connor probably doesn’t hate his guts. He has a habit of assuming the absolute worst and blaming himself for getting to that point. “Thanks, Asmeret. You’re so wise.”

She smiles at him, squeezing his arm. “I have a lot of time to think alone in here with my costumes. Now go get this vest approved. You look handsome.”

Kevin grins, moving to hug her before heading back to the stage.

“Kevin’s here, Mrs. Brown!” Zach Davis announces from his seat at the table directly in front of the stage.

“Kevin, is Connor with you?” She asks, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“No, I just came from the dressing room.” He replies, looking behind him as if Connor will materialize. He’s not quite sure what’s happening, but everyone is just standing around.

“Call him again.” She prompts Zach. “While we wait, why don’t we all try makeup again.”

The cast disperses and Kevin is left standing on the stage with his hands in his pockets. “Asmeret wanted me to get this vest approved.” He says awkwardly.

Mrs. Brown looks up at him, indicates for him to spin and nods. “I like it, approved. Change before you do your makeup, please.”

He thinks she looks stressed, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he thanks her and scurries back to the dressing room. “I’ve been approved.” He assures Asmeret, looking up to meet Nabulungi’s eyes in the mirror across the room as she fixes her hair.

“I can do your makeup.” She offers with a smile, still holding eye contact with him through the mirror.

He makes a gesture to say he’ll be right back, leaving to change into his street clothes before taking the seat Nabulungi had pulled out from under the counter.

“Connor told me what happened.” She says, plucking Connor’s makeup bag off the counter, “I think he overreacted.”

“Where is he?” Kevin asks, wondering if she has permission to use Connor’s makeup on his face.

Nabulungi shrugs, spreading foundation on the back of her hand before she’s grabbing Kevin’s jaw to direct his face at the angle she wants. Kevin winces when the cold foundation touches his skin, just as he had when Connor had done his makeup on Monday. He was hoping to do his own makeup today, but that plan was clearly ixnayed after he’d screwed everything up.

“Do you think Chris’ sister is okay?” Kevin prods.

“I think you need to sleep more.” She says instead, “This is barely covering the bags under your eyes and the stage lights will highlight all of your flaws.”

“I do sleep.” Kevin says somewhat defensively as Nabulungi presses Connor’s beauty blender to his face. “Are you sure you’re not being a tad bit aggressive with that?”

Nabulungi pulls away to look at him briefly, “I am not aggressive. You just don’t like being told what to do and now you are lying to my face.” 

Kevin groans, but let’s her continue with her technique. He fills the silence by issuing a silent prayer on behalf of Chris’ sister and thinking about everything Asmeret and Nabulungi have said. The fight was dumb and yeah, he probably needs more sleep. But he also needs to learn to step into other peoples shoes. 

“Have you heard of Kinky Boots, Kevin Price?” Nabulungi asks after some time, “Has Connor told you about that musical?”

“No.” Kevin replies, looking up as she directs. 

“I think you should give it a listen for him.” She says ambiguously, patting his shoulder to indicate that she’s done.

“Thanks.” He smiles and she shoos him away.

“Go get dressed into that smart looking vest.” She encourages, “And do not worry about the makeup. I will buy you some and you can repay me by saying nice things about me to Arnold Cunningham.”

“You like Arnold?” He smiles.

“Yes and you have both been oblivious.” She replies, uncapping her lipstick as she turns back to the mirror. Her hand hovers as she notices Kevin still hasn’t left, she meets his eyes in the mirror again, “Connor is your friend, Kevin. He likes you, stop worrying so much. The more you think about this dumb fight the more you are going to beat yourself up and over what? Let it go.”

“Thanks.” Kevin says, again. This time he really does leave to get changed.

* * *

 “Steve, I’m going to have you go on for Cornelius.” Mrs. Brown announces when everyone’s gathered back in the auditorium.

Kevin’s a little nervous to act alongside someone he barely knows, both as an actor and a person, but he assumes his position anyway. After all, the show must go on. He can only hope that Connor will be back on Friday.

“It’s not the money or anything!” Steve reads, head buried in his book, the understudy position coming as a surprise to him, just as it had to everyone else. Kevin can’t help but think if Connor were here it wouldn’t feel so slow and meticulous, because Connor was perhaps the first person in the whole cast to have his lines down.

“No,” He continues only to be startled when Kevin jumps in to jinx him on the word. He recovers a little less eloquently, “It’s just that nowadays really elegant people never take hacks.”

“Hacks is out.” Kevin agrees, the way he does when it’s Connor playing Cornelius. He doesn’t know if he should change the way he’s acting to accommodate Steve.

“They all go by street car.” Steve says and it’s a group effort between Kevin, Sadaka and Kimbay to convey the blocking without breaking character. In the audience, Zach and Stephen try to direct him when the others fall short.

Singing is a whole separate challenge, Steve and Kevin unfamiliar with one another when it comes to harmonizing. The dancing is a disaster, but remarkably not on Kevin’s part. His dance lessons are paying off.

“Sorry.” Steve is quick to apologize the second they step off stage.

Kimbay waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t apologize. You tried your best.”

Back stage they can hear Stephen standing in for Steve’s character, Ambrose. “That boy better show up. He has a big role to go around pulling things like this.” Kimbay tsks.

“He was in AP Chem.” Sadaka offers as the group crosses the backstage to get ready for the next scene.

The stage door creaks open, illuminating the backstage in light and in walks Connor. “Where were you?” Kimbay hisses just as Connor tries to ask where they currently are in the show.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He insists, noticing Steve, “What’re you doing?”

“Being your understudy.” Steve replies, because it’s the truth.

“You’re relieved.” Connor waves him away, “Where are we?”

“Top of Scene 2.” Kevin answers quietly, holding the curtain to the dining room set piece for the ladies and Connor before ducking in himself. Mrs. Brown had yelled at him a time or two for being too loud backstage without a mic on and now he was extra conscious of it.

“Nice vest.” Connor comments casually as they wait for their cue, “You look nice.” 

“Naba did my makeup.” He answers, “She’s gonna buy me the right makeup in exchange for putting in a good word with Arnold.”

“Oh, she likes Arnold?” Connor asks, and Kevin decides that they probably aren’t going to acknowledge yesterday’s fight. 

“You have got to be kidding.” Kimbay says from across the table, “None of you know this? How hard do we have to work to make it blatantly obvious.”

Connor glances at Kevin, before shrugging. “Pretty hard, I guess.”

“Why, who do you like?” Kevin inquires.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Kimbay warns, “It is not you and I’m not telling.”

“Sounds like it might be Kevin.” Connor teases earning a glare from Kimbay.

“Kevin’s too whiny.” Kimbay declares.

“Ouch, sitting right here. Tell me how you really feel.” Kevin winces, moving to play with the silverware on the table. 

“‘Oh, boo hoo.’” She mocks, “‘Connor and I are fighting over the color of my foundation. He will hate me forever because of this one thing and then the world will explode.’”

“It could.” Connor shrugs, seemingly on Kevin’s side, “I think he’s rightfully concerned about the stability of our planet.”

“Are you on my side or not?” Kevin asks, wrinkling his nose.

“I’m on your side.” Connor decides after a brief pause, “And I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“Fuck.” Kimbay whispers under her breath, “Now I owe Asmeret $10.”

The music of the Waiters Gallop ceases and the curtain opens. Kevin straightens like they hadn’t just been lounging around, digging into the wallet prop he’d been given one of the first days in by Asmeret. 

There’s a rather dramatic, unintentional pause when the curtain is pulled back to reveal Connor instead of Steve, taking James off guard, but Kevin doesn’t look up to gauge what’s happening. Instead staying in character as he rifles through his wallet. “. . .I trust you are finding this table satisfactory, sir. The private dining rooms cost a bit more, but they do afford the best view of the entertainment.”

“A dollar forty, Cornelius. That’s all that’s left.” Kevin stage whispers.

“Are you sure? Count it again!” Connor waves him along.

He stands to exit, Kimbay speaking her lines on stage before he returns. “I did make a mistake, Cornelius. It’s only a dollar thirty five. I’ll count it once more.”

Connor freezes. “Line?” He squints at Zach and Stephen in the audience, face pinking in what Kevin assumes is embarrassment.

They fumble, without Chris’ guidance, to help him out. “No, don’t! We can’t afford it!” Someone finally supplies and Connor repeats it back to Kevin the next time around.

“I’m going to order everything on the menu!” Kimbay exclaims, taking on the brightness of her character. “Waiter!”

Connor stands to close the curtain and sinks numbly back into his seat.

“What’s going on, Connor?” Sadaka whispers as if she can smell a disaster a mile away and Connor breaks down into tears. Kevin is quick to rub circles into his back.

“Kevin, tell Mrs. Brown that we need to stop.” Kimbay directs, scooting closer to Connor.

“Don’t.” Connor pleads.

“Kevin.” Kimbay warms and Kevin finds himself betraying Connor to slip out of the dining room and interrupt Elijah.

“Open the curtain.” Mrs. Brown requests, making her way onto the stage as Elijah and James saunter over from their places to check on Connor.

“Give him some space.” Mrs. Brown requests, slipping into the booth. “Talk to us Connor, what’s going on?”

“I’m fine.” Connor tries to convince them, taking in deep breaths.

Mrs. Brown moves to take Kevin’s former position of rubbing circles into his back. “Steve,” she says after a minute or two, looking back to the crowd that’s gathered, “I want you in for Cornelius. Let’s get Connor out of here.”

“Is it about the line, Connor?” James asks quietly, because he’s probably one of the closest to Connor after Chris.

Connor shakes his head, wiping at his eyes as he tries to swallow down his feelings. “I—“ He stammers, blinking away tears through sniffles, “I was late because I had to drive Chris to the hospital. Lauren had a really close call today and I thought I would be fine if something were to happen because I’m, like, the glue holding everyone together, right? Like, I have a purpose. But it’s just hard and it sucks, ‘cause I’ve known her since we were little and I swear to God she was fine, like, a week ago. Anyways, a bunch of things happened and she’s stable, but I decided to catch an Uber to rehearsal because I know I have purpose here.”

Connor looks to Mrs. Brown through tears, “Can I please stay? I know my lines, I promise. I just need a second.”

Mrs. Brown sighs, having to make the hard decision. She moves to check her watch. “Would you feel better if we end early?”

“I don’t want to inconvenience everyone.” Connor cries, quick to take on the responsibility of what that could do to everyone else.

“We’ll make the practice up, don’t worry about it.” Mrs. Brown assures him, moving to pull him into a hug. “You need to go be with that family of yours and you need to spend all the time you can with them.”

Connor nods, wiping at his eyes.

“I can drive.” Kevin speaks up, hovering over the table.

Connor shakes his head, “I can’t ask that of you.”

“I’m offering.” Kevin replies, “An apology, alright? For yesterday. I’m sorry, let me drive you.”

“You two cannot go alone.” Nabulungi speaks up, “You will accidentally kill one another.”

“Arnold has to come, I’m his ride.” Kevin counters.

“Great, I’m coming too.” Nabulungi replies and Kevin understands the look she gives him. “Too much testosterone in such a little car and the world might as well explode.”

“Why does everyone hate my Honda?” Kevin asks miserably, earning a laugh from his peers.

“She’s rightfully concerned about the stability of our environment.” Connor repeats with a small, wet laugh.

“Fine.” Kevin shrugs, “Whatever it takes so that you’re not alone like this.”

“If I start crying again it’s because you guys are too nice.” Connor sniffles as Mrs. Brown backs out of the set so that Connor too can exit.

* * *

 Connor sits in the passenger seat of Kevin’s Honda, staring at the hospital building and flipping his phone over in his hands. 

“It’s up to you.” Kevin says, tapping his fingers against his steering wheel.

“We will support you, whatever you choose.” Nabulungi adds, leaning forward to squeeze Connor’s shoulder.

“I just need a second.” Connor breathes. His face is red and splotchy, but he’s stopped crying. The car lingers in the silence, the only sound that of Nabulungi leaning back into her seat.

“Okay, way to make it awkward.” Connor speaks up, the first to break the silence, “Let’s go in, I guess.”

“Naba and I were thinking about grabbing dinner.” Arnold says, halfheartedly kicking a pebble across the parking lot as they walk, “Are you guys hungry?”

“I don’t think I can eat.” Connor says, “But you guys should go get something. I totally put everyone out, I’m sure you all have studying to do.”

He goes to reach for his wallet to give them some money to pay with, only to have everyone refuse it. “Don’t tell Chris, but I stole one of his Pop-Tarts.” Kevin confesses, “I’ll be fine without anything.” 

Arnold and Naba break away to the cafeteria and Connor approaches the front desk to get a visitor band for Kevin. The secretary must know Connor well and she insists he take a couple of tissues from her desk just in case.

“Do I really look that bad?” Connor asks, helping Kevin fasten the wristband around his wrist.

“You’ve looked better.” Kevin says and Connor laughs.

“But do I look bad?” He repeats, moving to lean into Kevin as the walk towards the elevators - as if he’ll lose his footing if Kevin doesn’t keep him upright.

“You look like you’ve had a good cry.” Kevin surrenders, “But you did.”

“Not one of my best moments.” Connor laughs, moving to use one of the tissues he’d taken to wipe his nose. “It’s been a rough week and I’ve been taking it out on all the wrong people. That fight was so ridiculous I realize that now, but in the moment it felt so good just to scream even if it was misguided.” 

“It probably doesn’t help that I’m a button-pusher.” Kevin replies, “Ask any of my siblings and they’ll tell you. I’m really good at getting in dumb arguments.”

Connor looks to Kevin with a laugh and Kevin’s just glad that he’s smiling. It had hurt to see his friend so vulnerable. “We fought about makeup. Two teenage boys fought over makeup.”

“I got Jack grounded for 14 days over a donut.” Kevin recalls, “And sometimes I think he’s still taking out his revenge.”

“What the fuck did you do to the donut?” Connor asks, quickly backtracking after remembering Kevin’s abstinence from swearing. “Sorry.”

Kevin shrugs, sharing in the laughter, “I just ate it.” 

Connor stares at him like he’s waiting for a punchline, but Kevin doesn’t supply anything further. “You just ate it.” He nods, slowly.

“Yeah, my dad can be a lot sometimes.” Kevin shrugs, as Connor leans forward to press the elevator button.

“Drama really does run in the family.” Connor teases, “Somehow I feel slightly less bad about our fight.”

The elevator doors slide open and Connor pulls Kevin in, pressing the button on the panel like he’s done it a thousand times before and Kevin suspects he has. “Terrible music.” He comments and the ride doesn’t take all that long.

“I’m not going to intrude.” Kevin explains as they step off.

“I don’t think it’s intruding if I invited you.” Connor responds.

“Yeah,” Kevin reasons, “but I don’t think this is the kind of thing you invite people to.” 

“Right.” Connor responds and Kevin looks like he’s staring down the face of a terrible reality, but he’s not going to say that out loud. “If she’s doing well can you come in just for a second and gas me up as a dance captain so she knows her title is in good hands.”

“Yeah, of course.” Kevin says, moving to wrap his arm around Connor’s shoulder. He looks so fragile and broken and Kevin realizes he’s never been in his shoes before. He’s never lost anyone particularly close to his family, which isn’t going to help him in the long run, but for now maybe he’s Connor’s glue.

Connor weasels a tissue out of his pocket, wiping at his eyes as they walk down the hall. “There’s a waiting room here.” He gestures, “Otherwise there’s usually a chair outside the door.”

“Where do you need me?” Kevin asks and wordlessly, Connor tugs him along down the tiled hallway and through the fluorescent lights. Kevin thinks it’s best to keep his head down instead of peaking into rooms and it’s weird to him how he’s itching to get into the healthcare field to spend his days in a hospital, but right now that’s one of the last places he wants to be. 

“I’ll only be a second.” Connor promises, leaving Kevin’s side.

A couple minutes later he’s joined by Chris in the hall. He looks a lot worse than Connor, but he’s stopped crying too. “Thanks for what you did today.” He says, genuinely, “For Connor. I know it doesn’t seem like a lot, but he couldn’t be in two places at once and Lauren wanted him to be with you guys, but it means so much more that you could bring him back.”

Kevin wants to protest that he didn’t do much, but he realizes it’s not about him right now. “Of course.” He says instead as Chris moves to hug him.

“I’m sorry we inconvenienced rehearsal.” Chris apologizes as he pulls away, “We really thought this was the end and there was just so much going on that we couldn’t stop and update everyone. Connor’s phone is dead and I shattered mine running up the stairs, but the doctor’s think she’s got some time yet. If it’s not too much to ask, can you run Connor to school tomorrow? It’s too late to run to the Apple store tonight and I need a replacement if we’re gonna make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“Of course,” Kevin repeats, “anything I can do to help you guys.”

“Thanks, Kevin.” Chris smiles, genuinely.

Kevin sinks back into the chair and just as he’s about to make a reminder in his phone, Connor joins him in the hall.

“Do you think we should join Naba and Arnold for some cardboard pizza?” He inquires and Kevin thinks Lauren must be doing well if no one’s reduced to a puddle of tears. 

“Sounds delicious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter was a good place to stop doing chapter summary’s so I don’t spoil it all. 
> 
> But I do want to apologize for two things:  
> 1) For not posting for two days.  
> 2) For this Chapter being so dialogue heavy. I’ve rewritten it at least three times because Kevin and Connor’s fight was so stupid, but then I realized the point was that the fight was stupid and ridiculous and they both need to move on. 
> 
> I hope to establish some more Arnaba, but I think you all know what’s coming. 
> 
> Oh and my sincerest apologies for not including Jack, but he was briefly mentioned so that has to count for something. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments appreciated. Suggestions welcome. Much love. <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve read this far, I assume you know what’s going to happen. If you don’t, here’s the chapter responsible for that Minor Character Death tag. 
> 
> Tissues advised.

By the end of the night, it seemed like good things had transpired between Arnold and Nabulungi in the hospital cafeteria. Kevin wouldn’t dare call himself a matchmaker, but in the words of Nabulungi’s character, he’d like to think he put his hand in.

Between their tag-teaming and the horrendous hospital food, the three had Connor laughing again by the end of the night. “I’m ready to go home,” Connor had confessed through laughter, “it’s been a day.”

So, Kevin had drove everyone home and woken up bright and early the next morning so that he could go out of his way to pick Connor up for school as Chris had requested.

Early for Kevin is entirely too early for the rest of his family. “Don’t you dare turn on that light, Kevin Price.” Jack warns, half asleep, from his spot on the bottom bunk.

Even if his brother can’t see his dramatic display, he feigns tripping as he flips the light switch on and rifles through his drawers, much to Jack’s discontent. It’s so early that there’s not even a trace of natural light beaming through the curtains.

“You’re a horrible roommate.” Jack informs him, pulling his pillow over his head and muffling his voice, “You set a thousand alarms and you can’t take direction.”

Kevin pauses, looking over at his brother before he rolls his eyes. “This is all a dream,” he jokes, after debating whether there’s any merit in calling out a list of Jack’s flaws as a roommate, “go back to sleep.”

From beneath his covers, Jack reaches blindly for an extra pillow to chuck in Kevin’s general direction. “You have horrible aim and a bad attitude.” Kevin says, watching the pillow hit the floor a couple feet in front of him before he’s crossing to turn off the light and sneak out of the room. “Go back to bed.”

“You’re up early.” His mom comments when Kevin joins her in the kitchen, fresh faced and awake after a quick shower.

“I have to take Connor to school.” He explains, standing with the fridge open as he surveys his breakfast options. “Chris broke his phone and he needs a new one ASAP in case the hospital calls.”

His mother nods as she leans back against the kitchen counter. “Are you just going to stand there with the refrigerator door open or do you want me to make you something before you go?”

“Would you?” Kevin responds and his mother waves him off to Jack’s timeout chair.

“How’re rehearsals?” His mother inquires, “You come home, you eat, you do your homework and you go to bed. Not to say it’s a bad thing, but we miss you at family nights.”

Kevin sets his elbows on the counter, leaning his chin into the palms of his hands. “It’s going well, I don’t think we’ve faced too many setbacks.”

“Did you get that makeup thing with Connor sorted out?” His mother asks, switching the stove on as she glances over at him.

“Yeah,” he sighs, moving to play with the grocery list that had been left on the counter, absentmindedly drawing circles into the outsides, “we agreed it was stupid and moved on.”

“How’s Arnold?” She inquires, “He hasn’t been around lately.”

“Busy, like me. He’s on the crew, so he’s learning how to do a bunch of technical stuff and the lead, Nabulungi, likes him.” Kevin answers, checking the clock even though he’s way ahead of schedule.

“That’s sweet.” She smiles, turning the pancakes over on the griddle.

“Yeah, I’m happy for them.” He replies, “They’d be good together.”

“Anyone you like?” She asks and Kevin rolls his eyes. It was a big deal when Ethan got his first girlfriend and then it was a bigger deal when he got engaged to the very same girl. Jack’s had a girlfriend or two, but Kevin’s never made time for love or romantic feelings.

“Hey, I’m your mother. I’m allowed to ask.” She justifies, setting his plate in front of him. She moves to run a hand through his hair, pulling him close to kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too, mom.” He smiles, “Thanks.”

“Don’t eat so fast.” She reprimands as he shovels forkfuls of food into his mouth in an attempt to adhere to a schedule he wants to keep, “I’m gonna go wake your siblings up and if you’re gone before I get back, have a good day.”

“You too.” He swallows, not in any less of a hurry than he had been a second ago. He dumps his dishes in the sink, grabs his keys off the counter and his backpack off the hook and pulls out of the driveway. On time is late, he reminds himself with enough time to spare without speeding. 

Kevin finds that like most nights when he drops Connor off, the driveway is free of cars. He lets the car idle as he texts Connor to let him know he’s outside, flipping between games and articles on his phone to pass the time. Even though Connor doesn’t take all the long, Kevin isn’t really one to putz around on his phone.

Connor settles into the passenger seat, nestling his backpack between his legs as he clutches a thermos to his chest.

“Good Morn—“ Kevin starts only to have Connor put a hand in his face.

“No.” He interrupts, moving to sluggishly tug on his seat belt before he leans his head back against the headrest to close his eyes. “It’s too early for words.”

Kevin raises his eyebrows, wanting to comment that he sounds a lot like Jack right now, but he decides better against it as he starts off towards Arnold’s house.

“Connor?” Arnold greets, slipping into the backseat. Kevin must’ve forgotten to tell him about Chris’ request. 

“He’s not talking.” Kevin explains, only to have Connor open an eye to glance over at him.

“What do you want to talk about?” Connor asks, opening his eyes as he leans forward to unscrew the lid to his thermos.

“What’re you drinking that needs a thermos that big?” Kevin asks because it’s the first question on the edge of his brain, as opposed to all the questions he’d run through in silence on the drive over.

“Tea.” Connor shrugs, offering the thermos in Kevin’s direction, “Lots of chamomile tea.”

“Oh, I don’t—“ Kevin replies, “I can’t.”

“Right.” Connor remembers, retracting the thermos to screw the lid on. “Once you break one rule it’s so much easier to break all the other ones that I just forget, sometimes, that there are in fact rules and that people follow them.”

“It’s a dumb rule.” Arnold acknowledges from the back seat.

Connor turns to look back at him, glancing at Kevin as if he’s supposed to be appalled by his best friends assertion. But, Arnold’s said more radical things and Kevin doesn’t necessarily disagree.

“My mom drinks coffee.” Kevin shrugs, “Every morning before my dad wakes up. He knows, too. They just don’t acknowledge it, but recently I learned she wasn’t born a Mormon so I guess it makes sense. When I was little I used to think I was doing the right thing by telling my dad, but he always just shrugged it off and told me I could do better. Which, I guess isn’t as condescending as I thought it was because he just expects more from me because I’m raised in a household with two Mormon parents that are for the most part fully devoted to the Church.”

Connor blinks, like everything Kevin had just said had flown right over his head. “Is this what happens when you don’t talk for extended periods of time? You just word vomit?”

“Haha.” Kevin says sarcastically as he pulls up to the curb outside of the school.

“See you after Seminary, Connor!” Arnold calls from the backseat and Connor waves them away as he heads off into the building.

Seminary passes and Arnold and Kevin split ways upon arriving at school. Arnold has a drawing class to catch with Nabulungi, who unsurprisingly he hasn’t stopped talking about since the night before and Kevin has anatomy. He’s slightly less enthused than Arnold because he thinks they’re dissecting something today.

Halfway through the class, there’s a knock on the door. Kevin is literally holding a sheep heart in his hands when an assistant principal beckons him over. “Can you, uh, hold this.” He says awkwardly, passing it onto his classmate as he strips his gloves off and tosses them in the trash.

“Do you mind coming down to the office with me?” She requests, motioning for him to gather his things. Kevin’s eyes widen in fear that he’s done something wrong. As far as he knows he hadn’t hit anyone’s car coming into school and he hasn’t cheated or vaped in the school bathroom and he certainly hasn’t bullied anyone on social media.

“Yeah?” He stammers, turning back to gather his things. The assistant principal thanks his teacher and Kevin heads off. Even though he’s much taller, he stills feel threatened by the authority she holds and the fact that he has no idea what’s happening.

“Connor wanted you.” She explains, which doesn’t ease his worry. Is Connor okay? Did he hurt himself? Kevin’s heard horror stories of kids breaking bones in gym class and just last week some kid had to be hospitalized after hitting a dab pen in the boy’s bathroom. Now, Kevin doesn’t see Connor falling victim to any of these accidents, but his mind goes to the worst places.

She pushes open the office doors, leading him past the front desk and past a series of doors to her own office where Connor’s leaning forward in one of her chairs with his head between his knees as the guidance counselor sits next to him, rubbing circles into his back just as Kevin and Mrs. Brown had done the day before. 

And suddenly Kevin realizes that it’s not about his grades or his car or even himself. He was asked to come down to the office because Connor needs somebody and because Connor trusts him.

Connor straightens himself out when the door closes softly, turning to see Kevin set his bag down. He’s quick out of his chair, clinging to Kevin like his life depends on it. “It happened.” He chokes in hysterics. Tears stain his cheeks and pool from his eyes; creating uneven patches of red across his porcelain complexion. His lip trembles and Kevin can tell he’s choking on words, everything on the front of his mind and he isn’t sure what to say and in what order to say it. “And Chris and I weren’t there.”

His whole body shakes and Kevin can’t help that his heart breaks. “Why don’t you sit down?” Kevin offers, blinking back the tears that prick his own eyes because it’s hard to see Connor like this. Harder than it was to see him fragile and cracking the day before. The counselor raises from her seat offering it up to Kevin so that they can both sit down.

Even as Connor sits he doesn’t loosen his grip on Kevin and both of the adults in the room occupy seats on the opposite side of the desk. “Connor, I’m going to fill Kevin in, is that alright?” One of the women asks and Connor nods numbly.

“We just got word from the hospital and the Thomas family that Lauren has passed on.” The social worker explains as the assistant principal pushes forward a box of tissues. “Chris is there with them now, but he wasn’t there at the time.”

“He was at the Apple store.” Kevin realizes, “He told me he had to get his phone fixed so that the hospital could call him if they had another scare.”

The women nod and if it’s possible, Kevin’s heart sinks further for Chris. He couldn’t imagine not being around if any of his siblings passed, especially at such a young age.

“We have grief counselors on the way, but because Connor lives with the Thomas’ we needed to let him know first. After lunch we’ll have teachers make an announcement so that anyone who needs to speak with a counselor can do so.”

Kevin nods along, trying to take in everything they’re saying as Connor falls apart in his arms.

“We don’t want Connor going home in such a vulnerable state.” The counselor explains, “So we’ve asked him to finish out his school day even if he has to sit in here the whole time. He says that you’re his ride home and that you usually have dance lessons after school for the musical.”

Kevin finds himself nodding along again, like a bobble head as he rubs circles into Connor’s back. Connor pulls away briefly, eyes meeting Kevin’s. “I need to dance, today.” His shoulders shake as he pleads with Kevin, “I have to dance.”

“Yeah.” Kevin agrees, squeezing his hand. “We can dance.” 

“Connor, if you don’t mind, we do want to send Kevin back to class in a little bit.” The counselor speaks up, “We don’t want to put him out of a day’s worth of class work.”

“I’m fine, really.” Kevin tries to insist, but it’s increasingly clear he’ll have to leave Connor’s side eventually.

They sit there for a while, Connor sobbing until his voice is hoarse and he can’t go on and Kevin doing what he can to help. Eventually, the assistant principal insists Kevin go back to class, but inevitably he ends up less focused as he worries about Connor holed up in her office by himself.

Teachers give the bad news, Kevin picks up the pieces. He collects Connor after school and they ride the elevator to the second floor instead of taking the stairs, Kevin holding both of their backpacks even though Connor insists he can hold his own.

Connor’s stopped crying, but he’s got a far away look to him and he’s not quite all there. He flits through emotions and Kevin lets him. He lets him take out his frustration and his sadness and they practice.

Kevin checks his phone when they take a break. “My mom says you’re spending the night.” He reads, “She says no ifs, ands or buts.”

“Kevin?” Connor asks, surveying himself in the mirror as if to examine the damage the day has done.

“Hmm?” Kevin hums from the seat he’s taken on the floor, glancing up from his phone.

Connor stalls, kneeling next to Kevin after he’s rocked back on his heels a time or two in thought. Gingerly, he takes Kevin’s face in his hands.

Kevin could go cross eyed trying to gauge what Connor’s thinking, oblivious to the possibilities. His face looks less splotchy than it had before and his tears have dried, but Connor’s not paying attention to those things about himself — instead paying mind to the detailed spackle of freckles across Kevin’s nose.

“Sadaka isn’t here,” Connor explains, gently placing both of his thumbs over Kevin’s lips, “I just thought I’d — it’s silly.”

Connor drops his hands, sitting back on his legs as he runs a hand down his face and Kevin’s left with phantom traces of fingerprints on his skin, but before he can inquire about Connor’s intention, Connor’s grabbed his face again leaning in for a kiss.

“I’m not gay.” Kevin breathes when Connor pulls away because that’s the only thing that he can think to say. Connor’s quick to recoil and Kevin can’t read the thoughts rushing through his head. Is he disgusted with himself? With Kevin? Has Kevin unknowingly been setting him up?

Words form on the tip of Connor’s tongue and just as quickly, they fall away. The tension in Connor’s body, the stress from the day, is so tangible that Kevin can feel the explosion before it happens.

“Way to address the elephant in the room, Kevin.” Connor says after a moment. “Why is it that you always have to put a label on everything? You don’t- You don’t know everything about me, Kevin. My gayness isn’t determined by you or your compulsive need to know the whole about something. You stick your nose into everything, but you don’t know me and you do NOT get to label me. I don’t use the word gay, you know why? That word, that goddamned little word, got me kicked out of my house. I see my sisters in the hallway at school and I can’t even talk to them because god forbid my dad finds out that I might have rubbed off on them. And now I live with Chris, but we can’t acknowledge my gayness there either for one of two reasons. Reason number one, their dying daughter just died and number two, what if James and Chris break up, huh? Then they’re forced to consider the possibility that their son’s promiscuous friend might rail their golden child when they aren’t around—“

Connor’s breathing heavy when he cuts himself off and Kevin moves forward only for Connor to scuttle backward. “Connor,” he says softly, “is this about me not being, you know? Or is this about Lauren and you getting disowned? I didn’t know.”

“Why would you?” Connor spits, not answering the questions Kevin had posed, “Why would I willing tell anyone that sob story?”

“I didn’t hold you at gunpoint.” Kevin says dumbly, his phone at the wayside and hands in his lap, “You didn’t have to.”

Just as soon as the tears had faded, they’d started again and Kevin rushes forward to hold Connor like he had earlier. This time, Connor lets him.

“What’s wrong with me?” Connor sobs and Kevin shakes his head as he pulls Connor close.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Connor.” Kevin says assuredly, “It’s just been a really long, really bad day.”

They sit there, together and broken on the dance room floor until Connor’s no longer hiccuping out sobs. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He whispers.

And nothing Kevin can say would make Connor feel better, so he chooses not to say anything at all, instead running his fingers through Connor’s hair like his mother had done for him when he was little.

Connor sniffles, looking up at him. “Why are you still here, Kevin? I’ve done nothing but explode all over you the past week.”

“Because you’re my friend.” Kevin answers without hesitation, “Nabulungi told me to listen to Kinky Boots for you and I think what she wanted me to realize is that I really have to meet people where they are for who they are, I mean, I’m still obviously overthinking everything but I know you’re having a shit week so I’m not taking it personally.”

Connor scuttles to sit up, staring wide eyed at Kevin. “Kevin Price,” he says slowly, “did you just swear?”

“Did I?” Kevin pales.

“You said shit!” Connor smiles, as if that’s a win for him and, well, if it is then Kevin doesn’t want to ruin it. But Connor moves to squeeze his hand. “C’mon, I know you want to ask Heavenly Father for forgiveness. Let’s do it, he and I haven’t talked in a while.”

So they sit there in silence again, Connor holding Kevin’s hands as they bow their heads. “Amen.” Connor says first and Kevin follows.

“So,” Connor begins, wiping the sleeve of his shirt under his eyes as he tries to backtrack, “what were you saying? Your mom insists that I sleepover?”

“No ifs, ands or buts.” Kevin repeats, like he had when he’d first read the text.

“How could I possibly refuse?” Connor replies, letting go of Kevin’s hands so that he can push himself off the ground.

“Have you talked to Chris?” Kevin asks as they pack up and walk to his car, hoping he’s not prying too much.

“As many words as either of us could get out.” Connor responds and Kevin gets the impression that he’s tired, or maybe more accurately just tired of crying. “But he didn’t want to talk long, he absolutely loathes his phone now.”

“Understandably.” Kevin nods, spinning his key ring around his finger before he stops to unlock the car.

Connor settles into passenger seat just as he had earlier that day, this time deflated and broken — and tired for whole other reasons. “I want to hibernate.” He comments as Kevin starts the drive home and he doesn’t mind that Connor flips through some of the sadder musical theatre songs to cope with his loss in a way that’s familiar to him.

Kevin, who tends to worry more about the outcome of things, finds himself submersed in the moment. In the conversation, in the songs, in the food, and in helping Connor change the sheets. As he settles into sleep, he finds that he’s not really concerned about what has happened and more open to what can happen.

“Goodnight, Kevin.” Connor says, the weight of the day weighing on him.

“‘Night.” Kevin offers back, staring up at the ceiling.

He and Jack had reconfigured their sleeping arrangement for the night. Connor on the lower bunk, Jack in his supposed rightful position of top bunk and Kevin on the trundle — that he’s admittedly a little too tall for, but to everyone’s surprise, he’s not complaining.

“Goodnight Jack.” Jack says, feeling left out and Connor laughs - something Kevin found he’d missed after a day of tears.

Kevin rolls his eyes, “Goodnight Jack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry. 
> 
> But, we got some Connor insight and Kevin’s developing!! So there’s plenty to look forward to. 
> 
> As always, comments and kudos appreciated. Much love! <3


	7. Chapter 7

Kevin’s sleep is restless. He wakes up to go pee. He wakes up to get water. He wakes up. He wakes up. He wakes up; and he has no idea why.

He doesn’t feel like any thoughts are eating him alive and he doesn’t remember any distinctive nightmares. Is it because he’s not in his normal bed? Is it because the trundle isn’t long enough to accommodate him? Whatever the reason, and quite frankly no matter the reason, he can’t seem to stay asleep.

On his second trip back from leaving his bed, deep in the throws of sleep, Connor mutters, “Hershey, go lay down somewhere.” And Kevin’s brought to a vague memory of hearing about Chris’ dog. He’s trying, he thinks to himself. He’s trying to lay down somewhere. It’s not that he doesn’t want to sleep, it’s just that he can’t seem to.

He finds himself face to face with his ceiling again, staring into a vast emptiness accented only by a ceiling fan. The harder he tries to tune out his thoughts, the more they bombard and berate him.

He finds himself thinking about everything he’s learned since auditioning for the play; all the things his new friends taught him about living — and more than that, living in the moment. He feels Lauren, rather indirectly, has taught him a lot and he can’t help but regret that for all she’s done for him, he wouldn’t have been able to pluck her from a lineup if he had tried.

He thinks about all of the reprimanding he’s met for worrying too much about the future, for all of the things he missed out on when he couldn’t afford to be spontaneous. He’s got Connor to thank for a lot.

Arnold’s passive, in the sense that he might want Kevin to do something but he won’t force him to do anything. Whereas Connor is bossy and demanding in an endearing way; and once he’s set his mind to something there’s no getting out of it.

His mind wanders, of all places, to the kiss. Kevin’s first. He’s sure there’s more to kissing than just pressing your lips to someone else’s, but that doesn’t make him feel any less. . .

He doesn’t know what to feel, much like he can’t figure out why he can’t sleep. This wasn’t an outcome he’d foreseen, there was no predicting this. And now he’s left to sort through emotions he’s never felt. Can he tack a label on something he knows hardly anything about?

Are the butterflies in his chest related to the anxiety that stems from being unsure how to face this challenge head on or does he maybe . . . like Connor? And does Connor even really like him? Or was it an emotional thing? A desperate attempt to feel anything other than sadness and pain.

And Kevin can feel himself spiraling. Farther. Deeper. Is the ceiling falling down on him? Are the walls closing in?

“Kevin?” Connor whispers, inches away from his face, “It was just a bad dream.” He says softly, squeezing Kevin’s shoulder as he leans off the bottom bunk.

“Yeah?” Kevin replies, disoriented, having not even realized he’d fallen asleep and Connor’s eyebrows knit in concern as he moves to rub his hand up and down Kevin’s arm the way one would do to warm up.

“You good and awake now?” He double checks as Kevin takes a deep breath in, moving to rub his eyes. “You were sleep-talking.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Kevin says dumbly, a heat of embarrassment crawling up his neck with the realization that he doesn’t know what exactly it was that he was saying. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Connor pulls his hand away as he settles back into the mattress. “Not your fault I’m a light sleeper.” He promises, but Kevin disagrees. Connor hadn’t even moved the last two times he’d left the room.

Eventually, he falls back asleep, awaking next to an alarm and a pillow dropping off the top bunk via an irritated Jack who’d probably had no trouble sleeping through the night.

Kevin turns the alarm off, finding himself more exhausted than when he’d gone to sleep. He flicks through the notifications that crowd his screen. Rehearsal is cancelled, out of respect for Connor and Chris who are instrumental in the show. Chris maybe less so than Connor because he’s trained Zach and Stephen, but Steve is nowhere near ready to jump in for Connor again.

He goes to tell Connor the news, but decides against waking him from a dead sleep. Light sleeper? He has to laugh; but he remembers how Connor had said that once you break one rule it’s easy to break the others. Maybe white lies are Connor’s thing?

Per the usual routine he rifles through his drawers for an outfit and leaves to take a shower.

“Hey, Kev?” His mother asks on the other side of the bathroom door sometime later.

Kevin blinks away from his reflection, toothbrush dangling out of his mouth as he opens the door.

“Colin is staying home sick today.” She explains, “If Connor wants he’s more than welcome to stay here with us or I can drive him to the Thomas’ if he’d like.”

“He’s not up yet.” Kevin says, leaning over to spit into the sink before he reaches for a bathroom cup to rinse his mouth out. “And they cancelled rehearsal for today.”

“Oh,” she replies, “there’s no hurry. He’s had a long couple days, let him rest.”

“Thanks, mom.” He smiles, appreciative that his family can be so accommodating.

“Are you feeling alright?” She asks, leaning against the door frame as he checks his hair in the mirror one last time. “I heard you get up a couple times last night.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Kevin shrugs because he doesn’t think it’s anything to worry about unless Nabulungi and the bags under his eyes are concerned. Good thing rehearsal was cancelled because he has a feeling the stage lights would be particularly unbecoming today.

Kevin can tell she’s worried, so he shoots her an award worthy smile to calm her nerves.

“Well,” she sighs, “if you talk to Connor before you leave, remind him that he’s welcome to stay as long as he’d like and that he’s invited to family game tonight if he so wishes. If you don’t, I’m sure Colin will because he absolutely adores Connor.”

“Everyone loves Connor.” Kevin replies, “That’s his charm.”

“He’s a good kid.” She agrees and he’s glad his mom sees it his way.

School passes without word from Connor, but Kevin doesn’t doubt that his mother’s been keeping in touch. He’d guess he probably has his phone tucked away around Chris considering the delicate subject matter.

“Arnold.” Kevin says, grabbing the backpack loop of his friends backpack to keep him from getting run over as a newly licensed sophomore backs out of their parking spot. “My mom wants me to invite you and Naba to family game night.”

“Nana hasn’t even met my family.” Arnold says pointedly, slightly alarmed. And Kevin wonders what it must feel like to be in love.

“Naba,” Kevin emphasizes, “is my friend too. She’s theatre family.”

“Well, in that case, technically speaking you would have to invite everyone over so it’s not just me, you, Nissan, Jack—“

“Dude,” Kevin interrupts, “how hard is it to pronounce Nabulungi? Besides, Connor’s there, probably.”

“Connor’s there, probably?” Arnold repeats back, ignoring the interruption. “What’s that mean, like you guys are dating?”

“What?” Kevin chokes, “No.”

“No, definitely not or no, not yet?” Arnold presses.

“You sound crazy.” Kevin sputters in denial.

“I thought you knew that about me.” Arnold shrugs as he clambers into the passenger seat. He doesn’t press any further and Kevin thinks the silence is just as suffocating as it had been the night before when he was convinced the room was closing in around him. Instead, he concedes, “I’ll ask Nutella if she wants to come.” 

“Great.” Kevin replies and if his eye twitches it’s only because he’s trying not to correct his friend again. 

As they pull out of the parking lot, Kevin’s radio cuts out as Caller ID overrides the display to let him know Connor’s calling.

“Hello?” He answers, hitting the phone button on his steering wheel.

“Heyy,” Connor greets, “can you pick me up?”

“Yeah,” Kevin confirms, “Arnold and I are on our way.”

“Great, love you guys.” Connor replies, and there’s some shuffling on the other end, “Your mom told me to pack a suitcase so I don’t have to pilfer your and Jack’s oversized clothing, so I’ve got that with me. And she wants you to pick up the pizzas on your way home too.”

“Okay?” Kevin replies, wrinkling his nose as he looks to Arnold as if he can provide an explanation. How has Connor gotten all of this information before him?

“Your family is really nice, Kevin.” Connor admits with a sigh, like he’s locked himself away in longing thoughts of what his own family could have been.

“Connor, are you alright?” Kevin asks, because it seems warranted.

“Yeah.” Connor answers after a beat, like he had to really think about it. 

“He sounds baked.” Arnold shrugs and Kevin wants to ask so many questions, like how does Arnold even know what that sounds like? Does Connor do drugs? Has Connor been doing drugs? Is this a problem that Connor’s never mentioned because hypothetically, if Kevin were to reciprocate attraction, he doesn’t think he could do it with someone who gets high for fun.

“Connor, are you high?” Kevin asks, chewing at his bottom lip.

“Fuck.” Connor replies and there’s some fumbling heard, like he’s dropped his phone until he’s back on the line. “Yeah,“ he confesses, his guilt tangible, “I found some leftover stuff from when Steve and I dated and I wasn’t going to just give it back and it’s been a long time since I last smoked and I just thought it’d make things easier, you know?”

Kevin can not bring Connor back to his house high, but before he can voice this Connor’s talking again.

“I mean, never mind, you wouldn’t know. I didn’t mean to say that.” Connor continues, “That was dumb. Anyways, I think I’m really ready to leave now.”

“We’re coming to get you, buddy.” Arnold assures him.

“Thanks.” Connor breathes. “I’m sorry, Kevin.”

Kevin’s silence was rightly perceived as frustration. “We can’t tell my parents, okay? This can’t happen again.”

“Scouts honor.” Connor replies, sincerely, “No more weed and no more Steve.” Kevin reconsiders his hypothetical attraction proposal now that his least favorite things are out of the way. Not that he necessarily has qualms with Steve, but Kevin’s never been good with competition.

Soon enough, they have Connor and his suitcase tucked away in the backseat of Kevin’s Honda, pizza boxes resting on the ground between his feet.

“You okay, Connor?” Kevin asks again, because he can’t stop worrying.

“Yeah,” Connor replies meeting Kevin’s eyes in the rear view mirror, “just tired and thinking.”

“Why’d you do it?” Kevin asks cautiously because that’s perhaps what’s bothering him the most.

Connor shrugs, leaning his head back against the headrest as he watches out the window. “I thought I missed how it made me feel,” He ventures, “but I can’t stop thinking about unhappy I was with Steve and how unhappy I was with myself to want to escape so often. I thought I didn’t want to be sad about Lauren anymore, but now I’m just sad and nostalgic and not in a good way. I’ve come to like who I am and where I am and I kinda feel like I threw that all away today.”

“You sound like Kevin.” Arnold comments to which Kevin sputters out a confused noise, not seeing the correlation.

Connor laughs, but Kevin’s not sure if it’s just to laugh or because he agrees. “Overthinking?” He supplies in an effort to help Kevin out.

Kevin’s extra cautious, helping Connor out of the car even though he insists he’s fine and carrying in his luggage as Arnold carries in the pizzas.

“Did you boys invite Nabulungi?” Mrs. Price asks, taking the pizzas from Arnold and Kevin’s a little absentminded as he tries to gauge if his mom has caught onto Connor yet. Connor nudges him, far more aware and less obvious than Kevin.

“I can.” Connor offers helpfully, despite whatever Kevin and Arnold have to say on the matter.

“Kev, can you put Connor’s things in Ethan’s old dresser?” His mom requests and Connor goes wide eyed, which only worries Kevin further. Has he got something else to hide?

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Connor says, “I live out of my suitcases and sleep on the couch at Chris’. I don’t want to invade your home, you already gave me a bed to sleep in.”

And now Kevin’s guilty about doubting Connor’s intentions, but his mother beats him to saying anything before he can even open his mouth.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she waves her hand, “we’re a big family. We have more than enough room. Like I told you earlier, you’re welcome to stay as long or as often as you need.”

Connor looks close to tears and Kevin’s mother ropes him into a hug. “I know the Thomas’ do what they can,” he says, teary eyed against her shoulder, “but you guys are so generous. You really shouldn’t have to take on my parents burden.”

“Oh, Connor.” She says, pulling away to hold his hands in hers, “You’re not a burden, don’t you dare let yourself believe that. It’s the least we can do for everything you’ve done for Kevin.”

“Mom.” Kevin rolls his eyes, not that she isn’t right but it’s not something he’d ever figured out how to express — especially to someone his own age.

“Go get settled.” She ushers, “And call Nabulungi. Your father will be home from work soon. He’s going to pick up Hannah from ballet on his way and we’ll do something fun, okay?” 

Connor and Arnold follow Kevin back to his room, Connor insisting that he’s capable of unloading his own things. Kevin reassuring himself that his mom hadn’t noticed.

“What’re you guys whispering about?” Jack inquires, nosily as he looks up from the desk he and Kevin share for homework.

“Nothing.” Kevin lies, to Connor’s surprise.

“Connor’s high.” Arnold blurts, because he’s not particularly good with secrets around people close in age. 

Kevin briefly considers the consequences of murder.

Jack laughs and turns back to his work, clearly not as stressed as Kevin by the whole ordeal. “If mom noticed, I highly doubt she cares. Dad, on the other hand, he’d care, but mom was kind of a wild child.”

“I think I want you to stop taking.” Kevin decides.

“He’s having a rough existence.” Connor offers, “Everything he thought he knew is being challenged.”

“Must’ve slipped my mind that it was everyone attack Kevin day.” He says bitterly.

Jack rolls his eyes, setting his pencil down as he turns to face the younger boys again. “How high are you?” 

“On what scale?” Connor asks.

“Percentage wise. 1 to 100.” Jack decides, which Kevin would have to agree is more reasonable than a scale of 1-10. If Kevin had any say at all. Which he doesn’t, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“Like a 10%.” Connor decides, “I’m tired, kinda emotional, but other than that great and ready for some pizza so can we hurry it up?”

“Look, Kevin, he’s fine.” Jack says, turning back to his work. “It’s not the worst thing to have happened. You’re just . . . innocent.”

“He’s not wrong.” Connor shrugs when Kevin looks for support.

“You kissed me!” Kevin argues, despite the fact that Connor hadn’t even been hinting at that particular instance. It had been eating Kevin alive all day, spare thoughts consumed with confusion as he tried to sort through what had happened and what he wants to happen.

“Kevin—” Connor starts, slightly taken aback.

Sentiments of, “woah, what?” are echoed by Arnold and Jack who are just hearing about this for the first time.

And Kevin hadn’t meant to blurt it out. He hadn’t meant to tell anyone until he’d gotten all of his thoughts sorted out.

“Never mind.” He says, stubbornly as he turns to open Ethan’s old dresser, situated between the two closets that belong respectively to himself and Jack.

“Kevin,” Connor says and he sounds desperate, “I didn’t mean to. I shouldn’t have done that, but I wasn’t thinking. There was so much going on and I was trying to prepare you for the next rehearsal and then everything just went downhill and I am so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Kevin says and he wants to be offended, but he’d thought about the possibility of it all being a misunderstanding.

“Kevin,” Connor pleads again, tentatively setting a shaking hand on Kevin’s arm in the hope that Kevin will turn to face him, “don’t say what you think I want to hear. You brought it up.”

Kevin expels a frustrated breath. “I don’t know how I feel about everything, okay? I’m trying to sort out these things I’m feeling that I’ve never even considered before and then you went and got high and I don’t know what I’m doing. I have absolutely no clue and everyone keeps making small digs at me, like I’m some giant, dopey puppy who doesn’t understand know that it’s not all bible scriptures and following the rules out there in the real world and I know that. Trust me, I know that. But I wanted to be the next Prophet for so long, and I’m sorry if it’s inconvenient for all of you for me to figure out how to give up on the only goal I had set myself for years because I’m just realizing how unfeasible it is.”

Connor pulls his hand away, recoiling but not because of Kevin’s words but rather because he feels guilty.

“Kevin,” Jack speaks up, “it’s okay to be confused.”

“I don’t really want to hear it from you right now.” Kevin replies.

“Because I called you innocent?” Jack asks.

“Because you were right!” Kevin replies, “Because you told me a million years ago that being Prophet was a stupid goal because think of the rate at which we convert people on missions. There’s hundreds of thousands of Mormons and why should I, Kevin Price, be the next Prophet?”

“Kevin, I never meant it like that.” Jack says.

“No, of course not.” Kevin spits, “You didn’t mean to crush my dreams and he didn’t mean to kiss me and nobody meant to do anything. And I’m sorry, but I really just need time to figure everything out.”

“You shouldn’t have to do it alone.” Arnold says.

“No one should have to do it alone.” Connor agrees, “It’s scary enough.”

“Can we just forget about it?” Kevin breathes, turning back to put away Connor’s clothes. “It’s family game night.”

“Yeah.” Connor is the first to agree, with a reluctant sigh. “Yeah, for now.”

“Forever is acceptable.” Kevin mutters.

“No it’s not.” Connor replies, “I’m the Queen of bottling up emotions and I refuse to let you jump on the bandwagon.”

Everyone backs off, giving Kevin some time to put away Connor’s things in silence and cool down. 

“Were we thinking Monopoly?” Jack calls into the hallway, leaning out of the room after he’s put his homework away.

“We hadn’t talked about anything yet!” His mom calls back, “But the pizza’s going to get cold if you boys don’t come out here and eat it!”

Slightly ruffled, the group ventures back into the kitchen with a weird, tangible tension.

“What happened?” Mrs. Price asks and Jack shakes his head in response. “Well,” She begins to propose as the boys dish up, “we could play Monopoly or we could try something new? We have Apples to Apples—“

“No.” Kevin vetoes, remembering Cards Against Humanity. 

“—okay, we have some of those roleplaying games?”

“Oh, I love those!” Arnold supplies. 

The front door opens to reveal Mr. Price and Hannah in tow. “We’re you expecting someone else?” He inquires, “A car just pulled up behind me in the driveway.”

“That would be Nabulungi.” Mrs. Price greets her husband with a kiss, moving to then kiss her daughters forehead and welcome in their newest guest.

“Perfect timing, we were just figuring out a game.” She greets, before offering to take Naba’s coat.

“My father wanted me to bring something for dessert,” she explains, holding up a paper bag, “so I made some Mandazi. They are a Ugandan dish, similar to your donuts or funnel cake.”

Jack takes the bag from her with a quick “thanks,” setting it on the counter and offering her a plate for pizza in trade.

“We were thinking a roleplaying game.” Arnold loops her in as the kitchen crowds with people trying to fill their plates while others stand around idly to eat their serving.

“You look better, Connor.” Naba comments after nodding to Arnold, “Are you feeling better?”

“I’m coping.” He shrugs.

“You missed a quiz.” She loops him in, reaching to squeeze his hand before she turns to Kevin. “And I bought you some makeup.”

“Thanks, Naba.” He swallows.

“How much do we owe you, Nabulungi?” His father speaks up, unaware of the trade off she and Kevin had made.

She shakes her head, “Nobody owes me anything. As long as these two are smiling, I am happy.” She gestures to Kevin and Connor who supply half-smiles in response. “The last thing we need is a fight over makeup.”

Connor laughs, opening a pizza box to grab himself another slice.

“So what’re we doing? Werewolf? Spyfall?” Mr. Price asks.

“I was thinking Spyfall.” Mrs. Price responds, looking to everyone else to verify.

“Can I be the spy this time?” Colin asks.

“If we know you’re the spy that defeats the purpose.” Jack reminds him, throwing his plate away.

The lot settle into the living room, perching around various areas of the sofas to keep from seeing one another’s cards. Kevin had chosen the loveseat only to have Connor join him, facing him so neither of them could see each others cards.

“We’ll figure it out together.” He whispers, knocking his knee against Kevin’s.

“Youngest starts.” Mr. Price decides, having shuffled and dealt the player cards, “We’ll go counterclockwise.”

“Alright, Dad.” Colin hums, “Do you like your uniform.”

“I don’t mind it. It’s kind of an ugly color.” He responds, “Erin, how much did you pay to get in here?”

Kevin’s mom thinks for a moment, “I’m employed, so I come in every day for free. Nabulungi, do you like your job?”

“I think I talk to too many people.” She supplies, turning to Arnold, “What is the best part of your job?” 

“Certainly not cleaning the toilets.” Arnold answers, looking to Hannah. “Do you come here often?”

“Hey now!” Jack speaks up, “Don’t hit on my sister!”

Everyone pretty much rolls their eyes, but Jack offers himself a laugh of his own. Unsurprising, as he’s always been his own biggest fan.

“I stop by occasionally.” She replies, “Connor, how many days a week do you work?”

“Most weekends and nights.” He answers, nudging Kevin again with his knee, “What’s the worst part about this place?”

And normally, Kevin likes this game. But he hates being the spy because he hates being left out or having the smallest bits of information granted to him about a situation. 

So, he thinks there’s a uniform. The place is heavily staffed, but there’s been enough open ended questions asked about whatever the place is that it must be visited regularly — with public restrooms, thank you Arnold.

“The food.” Kevin ventures, “Jack, how many people do you talk to on a day to day basis?”

“I’d say I fare pretty well in conversation.” Jack shrugs, which doesn’t help Kevin at all and he turns to Colin. “Describe your uniform.”

“I wear a suit.” Colin responds, which totally confuses Kevin because his dad said he doesn’t like the color of his uniform — which means he has one assigned to him.

The game carries on, until his mom declares she thinks she knows who the spy is. “Brady, I think it’s you, hon.”

“You’re going to need a unanimous vote.” Kevin’s father shrugs.

“I don’t second.” Connor speaks up. 

“I vote dad.” Colin agrees, but if Kevin had to guess it’s because he likes to point fingers. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t really matter because Connor already shut the vote down.

“I vote Kevin.” Nabulungi says on her next turn.

Arnold and Connor side with her and soon enough she’s got the whole Price clan on her side.

Kevin rolls his eyes and forfeits his card, having never actually figured out the setting. “How’d you know?”

“You have a bad poker face.” She shrugs and stands to stretch her legs and dish up the Mandazi. 

They play another round or two. The second time Kevin was a principal at a school. Nabulungi the spy, but she was quick to catch on. The third round he’s a model at a nightclub and they catch Jack as the spy before Arnold and Naba bid their farewells, Naba offering to drive Arnold home. 

Kevin’s legs are cramped from lounging on the loveseat with Connor and he nearly falls over when he goes to stand.

“Can we talk?” Connor asks when everybody else abandons the living room for bed or for cleaning up after the get together, “Now that we’ve finally had the chance to get to the root of what’s bothering us?”

“Yeah.” Kevin concedes, yawning as he stretches his arms above his head.

“I’m sorry that I put you in that position.” Connor starts, “And that I’ve been a mess. That doesn’t excuse my actions.”

Kevin sighs with a shrug, because honestly? He’s had some time to reflect and Connor was right. They both got out what was bothering them and he’s kind of over it because at least they know the truth. “You pulled a Kevin.”

“What?” Connor replies, eyebrows drawn together.

“Just with the overthinking and the bottling everything up.” Kevin elaborates, “That’s what my family would call it.”

“That’s not fair. We all have emotions.” Connor replies, “And it’s been an emotional week.”

Kevin shrugs again.

“Look, I just want you to know that as much as you’ve been there for me, I’m here for you.” Connor explains, “And I’m sorry that I confused you and that I’ve totally uprooted your life and I don’t want you to lie and say I didn’t, because I did. I can see it. And I know that I really helped you in some areas, but I’ve also really hurt you. I don’t know, maybe we need a do over.”

“A do over?” Kevin asks.

“Yeah, but this time no one dies. And it’s just Barnaby and Cornelius.” Connor answers, “Cornelius is working through some things and he thinks Barnaby is too, but they’re friends. And that’s what matters.”

“Sure.” Kevin says, allowing a small smile, “It’s really us.”

“Barnaby and Cornelius.” Connor nods briefly singing the lyrics to one of their numbers, “Maybe we need to take a page from their book. Instead of faking elegance, we’ll just fake it ‘till we make it and then together we’ll carry it off.”

“We’ll carry it off.” Kevin agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I was scared to post this Chapter.
> 
> I spent a lot of time debating a) how to fill space and b) if Connor would do something like that. And I think it probable that as a sort of revenge to his parents he’d try to break the “rules” a time or two? That and it’s a public high school, so smoking is probably common. And Steve has big stoner kid energy to me, like he’s the one that they have assemblies about to warm you against vaping in the school bathroom. I’m just saying. 
> 
> Per usual, Kevin is a mess. 
> 
> You guys seem to really like the story, but I’ve noticed myself writing Connor to fit Kevin’s needs and advance his plot. And I think that that’s not necessarily a bad thing for my first chaptered fic, but if I post anything after this, I want to really work on who Connor is as a person. (Granted he’s different here because it’s high school and they never went on mission, blah blah blah. I’m talking too much.) This isn’t to say that Connor isn’t his own character with his own plot, he just happens to nudge Kevin in all the right directions. 
> 
> Anyways, enough rambling, sorry for the late update. Kudos and comments appreciated. Please give me feedback! (The good, the bad and the ugly.) And as always, much love.


	8. Chapter 8

Respectively, Kevin and Connor take some time to analyze what had gotten them to their breaking points. Taking into consideration only the things they can control as they prepare to start over.

They can’t control Lauren dying and they can’t change the past and realistically, they can’t make the other person change.

So, Connor acknowledges and accepts that Kevin is prone to overthinking. He accepts that Kevin is a rule follower and that he expects things to follow a certain sequence. Kevin is a (very bad) fortune-teller and a bit neurotic, and even a bit naive. But these traits aren’t necessarily flaws, because Kevin is also intelligent and talented and extremely caring. People love Kevin because he’s always early to an event, because he knows how to engage with people and because he’s prepared.

And Kevin acknowledges that Connor is hard to read and somewhat unpredictable; and that he’s made some choices that personally, Kevin wouldn’t make. Kevin knows that Connor’s hard on himself and that he lets everyone in just enough that if they ever piss him off enough, he can cut them out. But Connor’s also a better leader than he is and he’s far more personable. He’s funny and charismatic and he’s incredibly polite. He can be cautious at times, but only because he’s been broken before. And more than anything, Connor is the kind of person that you’re stuck with for the rest of your life.

In acknowledging these things about the other person, they’re granted time to realize things about themselves. And their friendship becomes less dependent and more open and honest, not that some dependency isn’t required — but they agree that maybe they were too dependent on the other person in a way that sometimes smothered growth.

With this newfound openness, Kevin finds himself more willing to confront problems rather than shy away from them. He let’s Connor know when a comment bothers him, or when something has confused or upset him. Which, sometimes lends itself to very blunt conversations.

“Are you flirting with me?” Kevin asks, looking towards the ceiling as Connor does his makeup. They’re diving headfirst into tech week and they’ve made enough progress in their friendship that Nabulungi’s surprised that she’s not doing his makeup to keep the world from collapsing in on itself. (Though, if you were to ask her she’d say this was bound to happen eventually.)

“Everyone flirts with you, Kevin.” Connor replies, focused so he doesn’t stab Kevin with the mascara wand as a result of his twitchy eyes. “You’re pretty to look at.”

“I meant you, in particular.” Kevin clarifies, wincing on accident, “Just now.”

“When I said I love your long eyelashes or when I said I’m in love with your honey brown eyes?” Connor asks slowly as he works to correct the slight mistake caused when Kevin jerked his head back. It’s nothing he’s going to fault Kevin for.

“Yes.” Kevin answers vaguely.

“I was complimenting you.” Connor says, pulling his hands away so Kevin can finally blink. “By definition, I don’t think that’s flirting, but I was expressing an interest in you.”

“Okay.” Kevin says in response. Nowadays, this is his response to most things after his question is answered. Neither accepting nor refuting what Connor has said as he mulls over the information.

“Do you want me to stop?” Connor double checks, briefly pausing his rifling through Kevin’s new makeup bag. This open communication is nice, but it’s sometimes circular in nature. They often find themselves back where they started.

“No,” Kevin decides, “I just don’t understand it all, I guess and I’m trying to be honest about it.”

Connor sinks into a chair across from him, “What’s confusing you?”

“My feelings.” Kevin laughs.

Connor rolls his eyes, moving to kick Kevin’s foot with his own. “But what are you feeling?”

“Was that flirting?” Kevin asks, instead, looking down at their feet.

“Yes.” Connor laughs, not at Kevin directly, but there’s no subtlety if Kevin’s always pointing it out. 

He has to admit that Kevin probably has it hard, sorting all his feeling out. Because it was all very incidentally established that Kevin’s also been feeling things for Connor, but they’re both tiptoeing around pursuing anything so that Kevin can figure out what all of this means to him.

How weird to have your first crush at 18 years old, to have never sifted through these sorts of things before and to be fumbling now, so publicly. He thinks that, unfortunately, Kevin must feel so alien. And that’s something he’d never wish for Kevin, but it’s endearing that he’s so open about his confusion even if he lacks the ability to express everything.

Connor doesn’t really remember falling in love for the first time. He remembers thinking about Steve, back in elementary school and realizing he was different, but never being able to say so without a threat being hurled his way by his father. He remembers the wet dreams and the time spent in the church, wishing his feelings away. Wishing to be what was considered by his father’s standards to be normal and acceptable. Falling in love was weird back then, because he wasn’t allowed to do it. And then when he finally let himself feel, he was condemned for it.

Whatever he and Kevin have going is just as exciting and thrilling to him, as that first love, if not somewhat tedious at times. It’s a fire that has to be kept, but he doesn’t mind keeping it. If slow is what it has to be, Connor’s quite alright with that. And this is Connor’s do over — his chance to fall in love with a good kid; this time without holding himself back.

“I’m feeling very appreciative and undeserving of you.” Kevin decides and most of his feeling descriptions are just compliments that Connor would boil down to attraction, but Connor would be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention. Knowing the clockwork of Kevin’s brain was a privilege and for Kevin to trust him so freely with his thoughts was an honor. He likes this little language they have, handing out compliments to one another left and right because that’s what makes sense.

“Don’t get sappy with me, I’ll cry and ruin my makeup.” Connor warns. “I think it’s cute that you don’t just say that you’re attracted to me.”

“You don’t say that.” Kevin replies pointedly, “You said you love my honey brown eyes.”

“Hmmmmm.” Connor hums in mock thought, as if he has to dig deep for that memory, “I did say that, didn’t I?”

Nabulungi peaks her head into the dressing room. “Dinner is ready.” She announces, “Mrs. Brown wants me to remind you that you can’t eat in costume.”

“Thanks, Naba.” Connor smiles, nodding for Kevin to follow the two of them out to the tables lining the hallway for a makeshift dinner before everyone continues to prepare for the show.

They fill their plates with parent made spaghetti and garlic bread, with salads and desserts and they crowd together around the lunchroom tables that have been strategically moved and jammed into the already spaceless fine arts hallway. 

“Is this seat taken?” A familiar voice asks and Kevin turns around to see Jack.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, scooting closer to Asmeret next to him as he gives his brother space.

“Your photographer cancelled and Mrs. Brown remembered that I did yearbook so she asked me to come in when I dropped off mom’s spaghetti.” He explains, “Apparently, I’m not useless.”

“This is my brother Jack,” Kevin introduces to those who aren’t already aware, “he graduated six years ago.”

Jack nearly chokes, “When you say it like that I realize how old I am.”

“He’s greying.” Kevin supplies to his friends in a stage whisper.

“Am I really?” Jack gasps, moving to touch his hair, “I thought I got those.”

“Greying is not an issue in the Price family.” Connor asserts, “The lot of you have the nicest hair I have ever seen. Frankly, I’m jealous.”

“It’s very thick.” Nabulungi agrees, “And neatly kept.”

“We’ll see about that.” Jack says, moving to ruffle Kevin’s hair.

“You all look the same.” Nabulungi adds, to which Kevin and Jack are quick to refute, “Even when I was looking at the family pictures with your oldest brother I was convinced you three were triplets.”

“Hm,” Connor hums in agreement, having also previously mistaken Kevin and Jack as twins, “they do all have the same eyes.”

“They have the same everything.” Nabulungi corrects, “They have got the same freckles, the same nose, the same jaw, the same eyebrows.” 

“Are you telling me that Ethan and I look young or that Kevin looks old?” Jack tries to clarify.

“Kevin is the tallest though.” Connor says, ignoring Jack’s question.

“I hate when people point that out.” Jack mutters into his spaghetti.

“I don’t see the resemblance.” Kevin decides after looking at his brother for a moment or two.

They eat, they put on their costumes, they run the show and then they sit for notes. Tech week passes fast this way, routine just as Kevin likes it, until they’re faced with opening night that Friday.

“Connor, Kevin, Kimbay and Sadaka,” Zach announces as he passes through the dressing rooms, “you’re needed on stage for mic check. And Kimbay, if you’re here I need you to use the sign-in sheet in the hallway, please.”

For reasons Kevin doesn’t understand, Kimbay is against the use of the sign-in sheet, but on their way to the stage she makes a show of dramatically checking her box with her initials. “You all see me,” she grumbles, “I am obviously here. He can check his own boxes.”

“Remember,” Patrick Neeley warns as he helps tape up the mics, “soon as we turn these on, the house and the dressing rooms can hear you.”

It’s been the same warning everyday for the past week, but Kevin doesn’t doubt there’s been incidents in the past. He shivers as Patrick touches his face, his hands are always freezing cold and the tape is extremely sticky - it really isn’t a pleasant combination. “Sorry.” Patrick says, and that’s routine too because Kevin has had the same reaction everyday for the past week.

“Alright,” Alex says into the god mic from the booth, “Connor give us something to work with.”

“Chief Clerk!” Connor says, “Promoted from Chief Clerk to Chief Clerk! And if I’m good, in ten years I’ll be promoted to Chief Clerk again! 33-years-old and I still don’t have an evening free—“

“Thank you.” Alex says, having properly adjusted the volume and Connor falls back, giving Kevin a thumbs up before he’s heading back to finish his own makeup after having done Kevin’s.

“Kevin.” Alex waves forward, “Show me what I’m working with.”

“Cornelius,” Kevin steps forward to recite, “Cornelius did he say two pheasants? Three! Four! Pheasants for the house! And never mind if we don’t see the whale, I’ll buy one of my own!”

“Thank you.” Alex replies and Kevin waves to the girls on his way out.

Asmeret is on Kevin the second he steps into the dressing room, Kimbay’s monologue playing through the overhead speakers. “Give me the mic pack.” She says, thrusting a pair of pleated pants into Kevin’s hands.

And Kevin would feel self conscious about changing in front of Asmeret had he not done it a thousand times already. That and there are so few girls in the production that they seldom knock before they waltz into the boys dressing room. The boys, however, are extra cautious about triple checking decency.

He steps out of his school jeans and shimmies into the costume pants as Asmeret reconfigures his mic. “Those are the ugliest fucking socks I have ever seen.” She comments, holding the mic pack in her free hand as she thrusts the wifebeater and the dress shirt into his hands. “Connor,” she calls as Kevin is forced to rethink his novelty socks, “help him out of his shirt. They never think about costuming when they tape these things on, but it has already ruined the makeup so we won’t fuss with it more than we have to.”

“Nice socks.” Connor comments, pulling over a chair so that he has a height advantage on Kevin to help him weasel his sweater off as they work the mic through it and then again through his costume clothes.

“I am glad you two do not have a lot of costume changes.” Asmeret breathes as she sets to work on helping Connor change.

“Fifteen minutes to shake down.” Zach announces passing through.

“Thank you, fifteen.” Everyone repeats back, Kevin in the middle of helping Connor out of his shirt sans the use of a chair. 

As soon as they’re finished, Asmeret is off to help the next person and Connor’s pushing Kevin into that same seat to do his hair. “Are you ready?” He grins, meeting Kevin’s eyes in the mirror. 

“Nervous.” Kevin confesses, “We’ve never had an audience.”

“We has the band kids when sitzprobe started.” Connor counters.

“Yeah, but they’re not paying adults with the authority to demand a refund.” Kevin explains as Connor takes hairspray to his hair.

“No one’s asking for a refund.” Connor rolls his eyes.

“Break a leg!” Jack says, leaning into the dressing room. “After shake down I’m gonna sit with Mom and Dad, but I’ll be back to take pictures after the show.”

Kevin gives him a thumbs up as Connor finishes his hair. They spend their last couple minutes, rehearsing lines back and forth before everyone’s herded down to the choir room.

“It’s a full house.” Mrs. Brown announces, “I have complete faith in all of you, you’re going to do great! Let’s break a leg.”

Connor’s the first to initiate shake down, the cast huddled in a circle as he throws his left hand in for sixteen counts, followed by his right, his left foot and then his right foot again until they’ve decreased the counts by half all the way down to one. “Hands in the middle.” He announces, “On three what are we saying?”

“Holy cabooses!” Sadaka smiles.

“Holy cabooses on three.” Connor grins with a glance towards Kevin, “One-Two-Holy cabooses!”

Kevin has to admit he feels loosened up and less anxious post shake down. Everyone is hyped up and the excitement is tangible. 

Connor and Kevin are seated in what’s portrayed as the basement of Horace Vandergelder’s shop when their first cue is initiated by James stomping on the stair.

“You stamped Mr. Vandergelder?” Connor asks, throwing the trap door open as both boys appear. Their arrival is marked by very loud and very obvious applause from the Price family.

They beautifully execute Put on Your Sunday Clothes and it’s the first time Kevin feels his dance lessons have paid off because he hasn’t embarrassed himself in front of a large audience.

Arguably, Kevin’s favorite scene is that in Ms. Molloy’s hat shop.

“We’ll get an adventure out of this yet, Barnaby!” Connor says as the two rush into the hat shop and slam the door closed, pressing themselves against it.

From his spot center stage, Kevin can see just how large the audience is and he tries to balance scanning for his family with paying attention to Connor.

“All day long we wander around New York and nothing happens!” Connor whines as they walk downstage, “And then we come to the quietest street in the city and suddenly—“

“Vandergelder!” Kevin replies and they go back and forth for some time, the audience in stitches with their comic relief.

“I’ll tell you what, let’s arrange a signal.” Connor says, setting his hands on Kevin’s chest as Kevin starts to hyperventilate over the arrival of their fictitious boss, “I’ll say to you pudding!” 

Connor puts all of his emphasis on the word pudding, which is funny the first time, but only funnier every subsequent time and Kevin’s never wanted to laugh before but the audience’s laughter is so infectious he can’t help but want to join in as he tries to hold a straight face. “I’ll say PUDDING to you and then you’ll know.” Connor’s saying and Kevin’s nodding as he swallows his giggles.

“Pudding?” He asks innocently.

“PUDDING!” Connor yells back and the audience erupts as they continue on with their schtick.

“We’re two men about town.” Connor asserts, taking on an air of seriousness as the laughter fades. He puts his hat back on and leans back to mock what’s supposed to be prestigious laughter. “Heheheh.”

“Looking for hats for ladies, heheheh.” He adds, with a hand in the air and then he and Kevin engage in a back and forth of the comedic fake laughter that has the audience laughing again and Kevin thinks he’s never felt as good as he does now. Never as validated or adored. The audience loves them. 

Kimbay’s arrival as Ms. Molloy feeds the laughter and Kevin doesn’t want it to stop. He tries hard not to think about the inevitable end as he delivers his line.

“Well you see, we’re two ladies about town.” Connor says.

“What he means,” Kevin corrects, “is we’re hats and we want to buy some ladies to put under them.”

In short time, perhaps the most taxing song in the whole show starts and Kevin and Connor work hard to follow the choreographed dance from memory as they scuttle out from the closet and from underneath the table, all while trying not to get noticed by James — the women aiding in keeping them hidden.

The table is small and Kevin’s always complained that it’s a pain to hide under, but he’s riding such a high that something that used to be such a pain doesn’t even matter. He’d do it tenfold if he could bottle the laughter and never let it go.

They dance and sing their way through the show and when it’s over, Kevin’s reeling. His mind is buzzing and he doesn’t think even Disney could top this feeling. 

“We did it!” He grins to Connor as they burst through the stage door, sweaty and panting.

“You did it!” Connor agrees, shaking with excitement, “You made it through your first show.”

Connor’s quick to grab Kevin by the shoulders as the rest of the cast bustles past, wanting to genuinely revel in how Kevin must be feeling. He’s been doing theatre for a while and he knows there’s nothing quite like your first show.

“I–“ Kevin stutters out and he can’t stop smiling, can’t stop replaying the laughter and the applause. “That was amazing.” He breathes and Connor throws his head back to laugh, he’s so happy.

It happens fast, Kevin grabbing Connor’s face in his hands and leaning in to kiss him. And yet the kiss feels like it lasts just as long as the laughter and the applause and he finds himself wishing he could bottle that feeling too. Connor’s initial surprise melting just as he does into the kiss and Kevin just wants to breathe him in forever.

“$10, Kimbay!” He hears Nabulungi say as she passes, last to leave the stage. “C’mon you two, we have families to greet.”

And Kevin grins, moving to hold Connor’s hand as they run through the crowd of people who have formed just past the doors to the fine arts hallway, everyone lined up for congratulations and hi-fives.

They’re pulled apart before either of them can talk about it or address anything. Chris sweeping his best friend into a hug. He hasn’t been involved with school or the musical since Lauren’s passing and it means a lot to Connor for him to show up - much less the whole Thomas family.

Hannah and Colin are the first to wrap themselves around Kevin. “Mom got you flowers!” Colin cheers.

“You did great, hon.” His mom smiles, pulling him close so she can kiss his cheek and his dad claps a hand on his shoulder - his siblings in the way for a proper hug.

“You did really good, Kev.” Ethan congratulates and while Kevin’s a little surprised, he should have given his brother more credit. Of course he’d show for support.

“I couldn’t stop laughing.” Sarah says and that’s the best compliment.

“What’re your plans after you change?” His mom asks, “Jack mentioned a cast dinner.” 

“Yeah,” Kevin breathes and he’s finally taking the chance to let everything soak in now that he’s not jumping around the stage, “yeah everyone goes to that pizza place afterwards and then I don’t really know what Connor’s plans are. The Thomas’ came, so he might need a ride over there afterwards.”

“Mom bought Connor flowers too!” Colin grins and Kevin notices he’s missing one of his front teeth.

“Oh, there’s no hurry. Let him visit with Chris. We can always set them up on his dresser at home.” She asserts, trying to herd her family together. “Mind if we grab a picture with you in costume?”

There’s so many people crowded the lobby that it’s hard to locate Jack and when they finally do it’s hard to find a nice place to take the photo that isn’t occupied by what feels like hundreds of people, even if it’s only tens.

“Want me to do it?” Connor offers, having said his goodbyes to the Thomas’ and moving on to greet his other friends’ families.

“No,” Mr. Price asserts, “you belong in the picture. Arnold, would you mind?”

And Arnold is happy to oblige because he has his fair share of pictures on the Price family wall and Connor has earned this one - grinning next to Kevin in the center of the Price family.

“Good job!” Mrs. Price grins, giving Connor his flowers and the Price family all shower him in the same love and praise Kevin had received until there’s tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I need to change.” He announces with a wet laugh, encouraging Kevin to follow. They bid their goodbyes and join the throng of cast members all riding out their opening night highs.

Patrick collects their mics at the door.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” Connor asks, nudging Kevin as they walk through the dressing room door.

“What’s there to talk about?” Kevin responds, still in good spirits as he sheds himself of the costume in favor of his school clothes.

“You and I both know how I feel about you.” Connor explains, jumping into his jeans, “And you’ve been not quite so sure about what you’re feeling. Was that a definitive answer back there or was that a test?”

“Why can’t it just be a kiss?” Kevin asks and Connor stops short in front of him, gently wrapping his hands around Kevin’s arms.

“Because I’m not looking for friends with benefits, Kevin.” He answers, searching Kevin’s eyes, “So are we or aren’t we going to try this?”

It takes a lot of courage for Kevin to make up his mind. Part of him still unsure about the whole thing, the other part wanting and sure and definitive. “Let’s try it.” He gives in, because where would he be without trying new things.

Kevin, who struggles with genuine confidence, is confident that this is the right path. He’s spent weeks thinking about everything coming to this very moment. Having to choose between an institution or Heavenly Father and his families acceptance. Having to realize that prophecy is out of the equation. Having to be ready and willing to forfeit his mission and his good mormon standing.

“Kevin,” Connor falters, “are you sure? I had to give up a lot—“

“I’m sure.” Kevin nods, “I’ve spent so much time overthinking. I’ve come up with every possible conclusion and none of them end without me having feelings for you. I could never say anything and regret it all or I could take a chance and if there’s anything I’ve learned from you and this show– it’s that I need to take a chance on love.”

Connor’s lips quirk into a smile. “It only takes a moment.” He hums teasingly, before he’s leaning up to press a quick peck to Kevin’s lips and Kevin feels just as he had with the first bubble of audience laughter. Giddy and ready for the adventure.

“Pudding.” He says as he folds up his costume, Connor kneeling to pack his things up in preparation for dinner.

Connor looks up, confusion melting into a smile as he remembers the lines. “Pudding.” He agrees, “When we’re in an adventure, you’ll know it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I have so many things to say. 
> 
> 1.) Jack’s back!  
> 2.) I love that Kevin and Connor’s language is compliments and I cant wait to explore that.  
> 3.) If the ending seems rushed about Kevin’s feelings on the whole decision making thing — I want to explore that in the coming chapter AND I wanted to get something up today because it’s my birthday and this is my present to myself. So, yes, I know it’s rushed but I want to dive into it in depth later and I only had 30 minutes left in the day. So, sorry. But also, yay? !!!  
> 4.) EEE!!! It happened!  
> 5.) Thank you for reading and commenting and leaving kudos. You guys give the best feedback and always ease my worries. I know I can be my own worst critic and I know I’ve said it before, but much like Kevin, I am a mess.
> 
> Much love. <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: The Utah Jazz are mentioned, so you know what that means for James Church.

Opening Night marks three weeks since Connor first kissed Kevin.

Three weeks since Kevin had let the cat out of the bag, and three weeks of subsequent reconstructing to prevent further emotional explosions. Three weeks of deep thought and introspection and endless questions.

And three weeks for Kevin to make up his mind.

It really seems like a small decision, opting to let yourself feel things for someone who reciprocates those feelings.

But Connor’s always been explicit about how his love has repercussions.

In the first weeks of getting to know Connor as a friend, Kevin had decided that he was okay with people expressing an interest or love for people of the same sex. Which, may seem like a no brainer to most. Love is love. But for Kevin, who’s been lead along by his religion for so long, he needed reassurance that this acceptance wouldn’t damn him.

And as he got to know Connor, he came to know of everything he’d lost. A family, a home, a future where he went on mission and attended BYU. Some friends, a lover, and for a while he’d even lost himself.

Kevin was pretty confident his family wouldn’t leave him. But the Church most definitely would. Same sex attraction was recognized, but acting upon those attractions was condemned. Kevin had put a lot of thought into the things he’d lose before he signed it all away with that kiss.

He was sad to realize he wouldn’t be accepted by the thing that had kept him sane for eighteen years. That he’d forfeit any hope of becoming Prophet. But maybe he didn’t want to preach onto others a religion that didn’t accept his love. And he didn’t want to live with a love he couldn’t pursue because of his religion.

“Kevin,” Connor had said, “are you sure? I had to give up a lot—“

Kevin had never been more sure of anything. And he’d once been thoroughly convinced that he’d be the next Prophet.

He didn’t know how he’d break his family to the news, but that could wait. He wanted to revel in his feelings and in the thrill of Opening Night.

“Ah!” Asmeret cheers when Kevin, Connor, Naba and Arnold walk through the door of that same little pizzeria from the first read through. She slaps her hands against the table in a drum roll, “There they are! Barnibus!”

Connor fakes a gag at the ship name as he slips out of his jacket and picks a chair in the middle of all of the action, motioning for Kevin to take the spot next to him.

“You two have sucked my wallet dry.” Kimbay accuses as they take their seats.

“It’s not my fault you bet against us.” Connor shrugs, reaching to steal a fry from the basket she’d ordered before their arrival.

“I hate you.” She says, her hatred empty and teasing and Connor uses both of his hands to make a heart at her in retaliation.

“Fill me in,” Nabulungi says, holding Arnold’s hand as they sit around the table, “are you two official? What is going on?”

“We haven’t even had a first date yet!” Connor replies with a laugh, he looks back at Kevin like he needs to be reassured, “I guess we’re gonna try to make everything work out.”

“Bullshit.” Kimbay says before Kevin can offer any of that reassurance, “Do not tell me Tuesday and Thursday dance lessons were not dates.”

Connor laughs again, “No, those weren’t dates.” He pauses, hesitant as he bites his lip and hangs his head, “Look, Kevin hasn’t even come out to his family yet and that’s- that’s a big step. I’m not rushing into anything here. We’re gonna take it one step at a time.”

“If you’re giving me time to back out, Connor. I’m not taking it.” Kevin says, reaching for his hand.

“Can we get this boy a basket of fries?” Kimbay asks, leaning back in her chair. She can be abrasive and moody at times, but she knows how to lift spirits when it’s needed. “He needs to eat his feelings.”

Kevin can see Connor’s shoulders shake with laughter. He’s torn because he’s fairly certain that his family will accept him, but he doesn’t want it to seem like he’s rubbing this fact in Connor’s face if he tries to ease his worries. It’s not fair that Connor’s family doesn’t support him and he can’t change that. And for someone who’s not particularly fond of change, he wants nothing more than to change this for Connor.

The teasing stops and stories are exchanged about backstage shenanigans and lines that hit differently with a live audience. This time tables are filled with crew members and pit orchestra kids all enjoying pizza and conversation. All riding the same high.

“Do you want a ride back to Chris’?” Kevin asks Connor, who’s taken to leaning into his side as he sips at his iced tea.

“No,” Connor hums, “I need to sleep in a real bed if we’re gonna do two shows tomorrow. And I need a shower, bad.”

Kevin laughs and he finds himself playing with the rolled sleeve of Connor’s shirt as he’s got his arm draped over his shoulders.

“What’re you two whispering about?” Kimbay prods.

“How bad he stinks.” Kevin jokes, jostling Connor a little so he knows it’s in jest.

“I was just telling him how he smells so much worse than I do.” Connor replies and they find themselves smiling at one another over a dumb joke.

“You two are worse than Arnold and Nabulungi.” Kimbay rolls her eyes, “The lot of you looking at each other with puppy dog eyes. I think it’s disgusting.”

“Thank you for your candor.” Connor smiles, blowing her a kiss. “I’ll find someone for you to make puppy dog eyes at, Kimbay.”

“Ugh,” Kimbay groans, “kill me if I ever make puppy dog eyes at anyone.”

“Murder is illegal.” Connor reminds her and people start standing to don their coats and leave. “I think that’s us.” He says, patting Kevin’s knee as he pretends to check an invisible watch.

“Oh, look at the time.” He jokes and Kimbay rolls her eyes again.

“Use protection.” She calls after them as they grab Arnold and Naba to head out.

“We’re not having sex before a proper first date.” Connor is quick to say to Kevin, even if Kimbay can’t hear them and Kevin is just as quick to confirm. He’s gone eighteen years without sex and he’s not too terribly desperate to break his celibacy any time soon.

Naba and Arnold are more established than Kevin and Connor and yet they’re not quite ready for labels either. Though, Kevin expects the words boyfriend and girlfriend to crop up sooner rather than later. Arnold is easily excitable and it’s obvious to Kevin that his best friend has fallen head over heels in love.

After Kevin’s dropped the pair off, he finds the silence between he and Connor to be comfortable and contemplative. 

“Are you gonna say anything?” Connor asks.

“Do you want me to?” He asks, glancing at Connor in the passenger.

“I’ve been with boys who can’t come out to their families and I don’t want you to rush into anything you’ll regret.” Connor explains, “This isn’t something you can take back if they don’t approve.”

“Connor,” Kevin says softly, reaching across the center console to squeeze Connor’s hand, “I want to do whatever makes you comfortable. Don’t worry about me. I couldn’t regret this if I tried.”

He parks in his driveway, taking off his seatbelt and moving to take both of Connor’s hands in his.

“I can’t get kicked out of your house too.” Connor whispers, pulling his hands away in favor of holding Kevin’s face instead. He moves to gently brush the hair away from Kevin’s eyes, leaning to press another kiss to Kevin’s lips. Their fourth. And Kevin doesn’t think he ever wants to stop counting.

“I won’t let that happen.” Kevin assures him and Connor’s kissing him again, knotting his hands in the fabric of Kevin’s sweater to keep him close as they lean over the center console.

“I’m afraid.” Connor confesses in a whisper. “You aren’t like anyone I’ve ever been with.”

“Then let’s wait. Nobody has to know tonight.” Kevin promises, nudging his nose against Connor’s as he leans into another kiss. Six. Seven. Eight. And then Connor’s fumbling backwards for the door latch.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He decides and Kevin supposes he’s right as he smooths out his shirt and follows Connor inside.

His mom has the flowers on display on the counter when they walk in. And then there’s the balloons and the cards which Kevin thinks are overkill, but he wouldn’t dare say it with his mom looking so proud of herself. Some of Jack’s photos are even spread out on the counter.

After a second round of congratulations, Connor heads off to take a shower and Kevin’s mom asks Kevin to stay behind for a minute before he runs off to his room.

“So, your dad and I wanted to talk to you about one of Jack’s pictures.” She says tentatively, like she might scare him away. And Kevin’s heart isn’t beating wildly until he sees the picture.

“I—“ He stammers staring down a picture of him kissing Connor from earlier that night.

“Kevin,” his dad says, “we’re not mad.”

“I can’t talk about this.” Kevin pleads desperately.

“This is kind of a big deal, Kev.” His mother responds, reaching to set a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

“Nonononono,” he says and his heart feels like it’s going to beat out his chest and he’s developing this awful headache, “I really can’t talk about this. You don’t understand.”

“It’s okay if you’re gay.” She says, roping him into a hug in an attempt to calm him down.

He’s overwhelmed and unsure what to do and overcome with confusion, he can’t help but cry. “You don’t understand,” he repeats, “I wasn’t going to say anything until he was ready. He’s so afraid, mom. He doesn’t want to lose everything all over again.”

“Kevin, breathe.” His father says and then they’re all standing, huddled in the kitchen trying to calm Kevin down.

“We won’t say anything until you’re ready.” Mrs. Price promises, looking for her husband to agree.

“I can’t have you two sleeping in the same room.” His father tries to compromise.

“I’ll take the couch.” Kevin offers hurriedly, “Please. I can’t make him feel unwelcome here and I can’t let him know that you guys know.”

Mrs. Price bites her lip. “Well, Ethan and Sarah are staying the night,” she says looking to her husband, “we were going to give them your room for the night. And have you, Jack and Connor split the hide-a-bed and the couch downstairs. . .”

She runs a hand down her face. “It’s your call, but I don’t think they’re going to try anything with Jack in the room. There’s three beds in that room, Brady. It’s not like they’re sleeping next to each other.”

And Kevin tries to gauge his dad’s reaction as he debates what his wife has said. “One strike and we’re going to have to figure something else out.”

“We’re not kicking anyone out.” His mom promises, rubbing circles into his back. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up and calm down?”

Kevin nods numbly, retreating to his room to grab pajama’s as his mom hides the photo away.

“Kevin, I am so sorry.” Jack apologizes, genuinely, having overheard the conversation. “I wasn’t watching the printer and I didn’t realize that she was looking everything over . . . but I’m happy for you.”

“Who all knows?” Kevin asks, rummaging through his closet.

“Only me, mom and dad.” He says, assuredly. “Hannah and Colin are in bed and Ethan and Sarah went out for dinner.”

“Let’s keep it that way, please.” He requests and Jack is quick to promise his silence.

“Keep what, what way?” Connor asks, toweling off his hair as he enters the room.

“Uh, actually we’re not sleeping in here.” Kevin tries to change the subject, “Ethan and Sarah aren’t heading back to Provo tonight, so they get first dibs to the room.”

Connor furrows his eyebrows, “Kevin, what’s wrong?”

“I–“ Kevin begins, looking hopelessly to Jack. Wordlessly, his older brother hands off the camera and it isn’t hard to find the picture, seeing as its one of the last ones.

“Oh.” Connor breathes.

“I’m sorry.” Jack says.

“So everyone knows?” Connor asks.

Kevin folds his arms around himself as Connor holds the camera in his hands. “Just us three and my parents.” 

“Oh.” Connor repeats, “So . . .”

“So, it’s cool.” Kevin replies biting his lip, “They said you can stay but one strike and we have to figure out new sleeping arrangements.”

“Is one strike, like, a kiss or, like, sex?” Connor clarifies.

“Sex.” Jack responds, “Same thing goes for Ethan and Sarah.”

“Are you mad?” Kevin asks, biting his nails.

“About what?” Connor replies, handing the camera back to Jack as he meets Kevin’s eyes.

“About my parents?” He expands.

“That they accept us?” Connor says, eyebrows furrowed as he goes to reach for Kevin’s hands so he’s not biting his nails.

Kevin nods as Connor brushes his hair away from his eyes again. “I’m not mad. I would be sad if they didn’t accept us and I’d be really upset if you found yourself in my shoes, but I’m not comparing anyone to my parents anymore. I realized a long time ago that no one can make them change and that being mad about it gets me nowhere. I’m really happy for you, Kevin. And I’m so grateful to have gotten the chance to get to know your family.”

“Connor, you’re honorary family.” Jack states, from his seat on top of the desk. “Whether you and Kevin come out the other side a couple or not, we all love you too much to let you go.”

Connor smiles, “That means a lot.”

“I think if they had to pick between me or you, they’d pick you.” Kevin laughs.

“Well if Arnold’s right and you’re all clones, it would make a lot of sense.” Connor teases.

“Why don’t we go set up the beds downstairs?” Jack proposes, shooing them out of the room. He lowers his voice as they walk down the hall, “You guys can share the big bed and I’ll take the couch that doesn’t fold out.”

“We’re not trying to strike out on our first night.” Kevin whispers back.

“No one will know.” Jack shrugs and with enough convincing, Kevin’s talked into it. “Besides you’re not planning on having sex, are you?”

“Why are you the second person that’s asked tonight?” Connor hisses.

“Because you’re teenage boys.” Jack shrugs, leading them downstairs.

Jack helps them change the sheets on the hide-a-bed and Kevin realizes just how much the show has taken out of him the second he’s able to lay down. Connor is patient with him, and while dancing has taught him some special awareness, spooning is a whole other issue.

“You know when you’re doing a puzzle and you finally get a piece settled into the right place?” Connor mumbles against his pillow and into the darkness sometime later, “That’s what this feels like.”

While Kevin agrees, he’s got mixed feeling about cuddling. He’s not against being close to Connor, but knowing the exact second he falls asleep feels invasive and why is he overthinking something so simple?

Eventually sleep drowns out his thoughts and he’s woken up some time later to Connor nuzzling closer. “You talk in your sleep.” He whispers into his chest and half asleep Kevin hums out an acknowledgment.

“It’s cute.” Connor mumbles and whatever he says after that, Kevin’s too far gone to register.

Morning breaks and Kevin’s alarm wakes the entire basement.

“Turn it off!” Jack whines, accidentally hitting Connor in the face with a pillow.

“You have horrible aim.” He attests, groggily as Kevin hits the stop button on his phone. 

“What time do we have to be at the school?” Kevin asks, the only one up and ready to start his day. Connor’s got both arms wrapped around his abdomen in an attempt to make his source of warmth stay in the bed. 

“Not for another couple hours.” He replies, “Lay down.”

“I have to shower.” Kevin laughs, trying to pry off Connor’s arms. Connor groans dramatically, but scuttles after Kevin to collect a quick kiss.

“I’ll never get tired of that, Kevin Price.” He grins and maybe they’re taking it too fast or they’re taking steps out of order but in the grand scheme of things, Kevin finds that for once, he doesn’t care all that much. He’s happy and content just where he is. In this in between with the complimenting language they’ve developed and the love that they’re growing together.

Eventually, everyone’s up and out the door at a reasonable time. Kevin both nervous and excited for his first two show day and Connor’s coasting on Kevin’s energy.

Connor’s laughing as they step out of the car and suddenly the joy cuts out and he’s leaving Kevin to close the door as he sprints across the parking lot.

“James,” he’s saying as he tries the door handle, “James unlock the door.” 

“Kevin,” he says, swinging his show bag around digging through the front pockets for the tissues he’d stocked up on after Lauren’s death, “call Chris.”

And Kevin, having no idea what’s going on is calling Chris and Connor’s still trying to negotiate with James through the window.

“I’ll be right there.” Chris promises, vaguely and Kevin’s never felt so out of the loop.

“What’s going on?” Kevin asks into the silence.

And Connor draws in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, but not because he’s mad at Kevin. He moves away from the car door, taking Kevin by the arm. 

“So,” Connor breathes out rather hesitantly, because there’s no good way to explain what’s happening, “James’ dad is an alcoholic and James has been trying to get himself and his mom out of that household for a while, but there’s a lot of paperwork and fear that effects any action they decide to take. And, uhm, his dad is very physically abusive when he drinks. More so after things he feels inconvenience him, especially if that inconvenience has any relation to the losing of the Utah Jazz—“

A car pulls up next to them and Chris hops out with a set of car keys in hand.

“I forgot,” Connor says, like an apology as he lapses back to Chris, having put the conversation he was holding with Kevin on pause, “I forgot they were playing.”

Chris shakes his head, “It’s not your fault, Con. We talked about the score over text when you guys were at dinner and he said he had to go home to take care of his mom.”

Chris uses the physical key to unlock the door so that he and James aren’t fighting with the lock.

Chris pulls James from the car, shoulders shaking with silent sobs and Kevin can see he’s got a purplish bruise forming under his left eye. Connor rejoins Kevin, intertwining their hands. “We always know something’s happens,” he whispers, leaning into Kevin, “when he drives his dad’s car to school.”

“Heyheyhey,” Chris says, smoothing back James’ hair, “look at me. You’re so close. Graduation’s only a few months out and then you’ll get that scholarship money and you and your mom can get out of there. We’ll make sure Connor fixes you up for the show. We’re going to put you back together, babe.” He presses a kiss to James’ forehead and Kevin’s hit, like a truck, with a sudden realization.

He comes from a pretty good family, he knows this. And sure, they feel dysfunctional at times, but Kevin had resigned himself to this bubble - this belief that people had it just as good as he did. And yeah, it hurt when he first learned a couple years back that Arnold made things hard on his family with his ADHD and his compulsive lying. Then he was hit these past couple months with Connor’s disownment and Lauren’s passing. And he feels selfish for having such a loving family. He feels angry with himself for ever thinking that his problems were bigger than others. That his anxiety or overthinking was somehow worse than what his friends faced.

“Kevin,” Connor says next to him, trailing his fingers up and down Kevin’s arm, “what’re you thinking?”

And then he remembers that he can’t compare himself to others. For better or worse.

“I’m just,” he shakes his head, “realizing how wrong I was.”

“About what?” Connor asks, eyebrows drawn together.

“Life.” Kevin shrugs and Connor squeezes his arm.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end on a sad note, but I tried to make it light for a while there.
> 
> They’re so cute. :(
> 
> Comments and kudos are welcome and appreciated. Much love.


	10. Chapter 10

The dressing room proves entirely too busy for Kevin to think. So, with hair and makeup done he takes to the small hallway just off the theatre warehouse where they have couches from shows past lining the walls.

This little hideaway is relatively silent. It’s almost always occupied, so Kevin’s surprised to see it vacant — but he will admit in his fear of being late, he and Connor arrived early. They’ve got an hour and a half yet until shake down and cast members are still arriving.

Usually, the hallway is full of kids sitting in comfortable silence as they break away from the rigor of theatre. There’s always at least one person enjoying a book or a nap or even a silent handheld game.

So, Kevin stretches out on the longest couch and thinks over everything that had started bothering him in the parking lot. 

“Hey,” Connor says, nudging his legs over sometime later, “I told you you should have slept in.”

It’s a Price family gift — or a curse, depending — the ability to fall asleep anywhere. And most timesKevin doesn’t even realize he’s fallen asleep until he’s woken up.

He goes to rub his face, pausing with his hands hovering in the air as he remembers he’s wearing makeup. “How’s James?” He asks, through a yawn.

And Connor sighs, running his thumb over the material of Kevin’s costume pants as he talks. “Fragile. More so than he’d ever care to admit; but also remarkably strong. I fixed him up with this heavy duty makeup I have for tattoos and Chris is doing what he can.”

“How has it gone on for so long?” Kevin asks and Connor doesn’t have an answer, so they sit in silence.

“I was thinking during the break between shows we could run to the store and pick up something to eat?” Connor suggests after some time, “There’s usually an hour or two of free time and there’s not anything particularly interesting to do. If it were Christmas, we would do secret Santa, but we’re in between holidays.”

“Whatever you want.” Kevin replies.

Connor smooths his hand over the sliver of couch available next to Kevin. “Is this spot taken?” He inquires

“Yeah,” Kevin frowns in teasing, “It’s reserved for Connor.”

Connor grins in response, nudging Kevin over a bit, but just enough so that he can cuddle into his side without falling off the couch. He plays absentmindedly with the buttons of Kevin’s costume, the comfortable silence falling over the hallway before Connor’s cupping Kevin’s face in his hands and kissing him with passion and reckless abandon.

“Connor,” Kevin says, gently pushing him away, “Connor.”

“What?” He asks, sitting back.

“I need to take a walk.” Kevin decides and suddenly he and Connor are on the same page.

“Oh.” Connor replies and he tries not to laugh as he slips his hand into Kevin’s, tugging him off the couch.

“Have you never . . . ?” Connor asks, unsure how to approach the topic.

Kevin laughs as he drags a hand down his face. “No.” He answers in earnest.

“Because it’s considered homosexual?” Connor inquires, cautiously.

“No, I don’t know. Because Heavenly Father doesn’t condone it, I guess.” Kevin shrugs, “And the pamphlet.”

Connor can’t help but laugh as they walk, swinging their hands back and forth. And Kevin feels exposed, but he knows it’s only Connor that knows. “The pamphlet.” Connor says fondly, even though the pamphlet condemns everything they’ve done in the past 24 hours alone.

“Before marriage, do not participate in passionate kissing, lie on top of another person, or touch the private, sacred parts of another person's body, with or without clothing. Do not do anything else that arouses sexual feelings. Do not arouse those emotions in your own body.” Kevin recites as Connor runs his thumb across Kevin’s knuckles.

Connor’s got his own parts of the pamphlet memorized like past scriptures, “Homosexual and lesbian behavior is a serious sin. If you find yourself struggling with same-gender attraction or you are being persuaded to participate in inappropriate behavior, seek counsel from your parents and bishop. They will help you.”

“I didn’t mean to—“ Kevin starts, but Connor cuts him off.

“You worry too much.” He assures Kevin, knocking into him lightly. 

“Have you . . . ?” Kevin asks in return.

“Masturbated?” Connor clarifies.

“I meant broken every rule in the pamphlet.” Kevin answers sheepishly as he hangs his head, a red blush creeping up his neck.

Connor pretends to act offended, but he shrugs. “Most of them, yeah. I was force fed a lot of homophobic ideology in an attempt to keep me from sinning. And for a long time, I believed in it and I tried to be good and follow the rules and then I took one step in the wrong direction and it didn’t take too long for me to completely jump ship. I was given 12 hours to get everything out of my parents house and I didn’t even get a meeting with my bishop or time to write a letter of resignation to the church.”

Kevin had forgotten about that. About all the steps that needed taking to just leave.

“What?” Connor asks and Kevin would be lying if he said he didn’t notice that Connor had a sixth sense for his overthinking.

“I have to write a letter.” He explains.

“Get an attorney.” Connor replies, “That way they don’t send someone to try and change your mind and they don’t bombard you with mail, hoping you’ll do what they think is the right thing.”

“I think you’re the right thing.” Kevin tries his hand at a compliment.

Instead of continuing his walk next to Kevin, Connor spins so that he’s walking backwards in front of Kevin, reaching for the hand he hadn’t been holding. “Yeah?” He smirks, stopping abruptly to lean up and kiss Kevin, “And you wanna do me?”

Kevin stammers as Connor tugs him along so they’re walking down the hallway again.

“That was a joke.” Connor assures him, “We aren’t rushing into things, remember?”

“Except everything the pamphlet said not to do, like passionate kissing or lying on top of one another.” Kevin counters, “Not to mention sharing a bed and handholding and lots of stolen kisses.”

“You missed the gay part.” Connor chastises, playfully. Still holding both of Kevin’s hands and leading him along as he walks facing Kevin, Connor stops to pull him close again. Thoughtfully, he drops their hands to fix Kevin’s vest. “You really never had a crush on anyone before?”

“No.” Kevin shrugs and he doesn’t even have to think hard about it, because Connor’s the first and only person to ever make him stop and smell the roses.

“You never cease to amaze me.” Connor replies, “From day one when you didn’t even know what show you were auditioning for. Or that time you accidentally called me Colin.”

“It’s my brother’s name.” Kevin says defensively, “I’m inclined to think everyone’s got the same, generic white people names. My parents didn’t really go all out with Ethan, Jack, Kevin, Hannah and Colin.”

“I have two sisters.” Connor replies, and he sounds far away before he’s blinking out of his thoughts and looking up at Kevin again with clear eyes. He turns, falling back to Kevin’s side and they’re silent as they turn to walk back down the hallway.

“Are you feeling better?” Connor asks, as if the erection Kevin had wanted to walk off was of the same caliber as the flu.

“Yeah.” Kevin answers and Connor slips his phone out of his pocket to check the time.

“Is cuddling too spicy for you?” Connor asks, “We’ve got some time to kill yet and I wouldn’t mind a nap.”

Kevin rolls his eyes, accepting the fact that he probably won’t hear the end of it.

He let’s Connor lead him back to the couches, where James and Chris have already taken up one of the couches and Sadaka one of the armchairs. Connor falls asleep, pressed into his side as Kevin writes and rewrites drafts of his resignation letter beside him.

“They need you guys for mic check on the stage.” Zach announces, leaning into the hallway before he’s heading off to the dressing rooms to rally the others.

Kevin shakes Connor gently, slipping his phone into his pocket. They recite their lines, same as the night before and fifteen minutes later they’re shaking down in the choir room.

When they sing It Only Takes A Moment, Kevin finds a little bit more meaning to it, watching Connor as he leans over the jury’s stand. “. . . Takes a moment! For your eyes to meet and then your heart knows, in a moment, you will never be alone again!”

Kevin finds the second performance is just as exhilarating as the first when it’s all said and done; just without the celebration as everyone splits off to buy themselves a meal before the next show.

“What do you want to eat?” Connor asks, hands on Kevin’s hips as he leans up to kiss him.

“Can you honeymoon elsewhere?” Kimbay teases as she passes, car keys in hand.

“No.” Connor answers politely. He looks back to Kevin, expectantly.

“I don’t have a preference.” Kevin shrugs and Connor rolls his eyes, tugging him out towards the car after Kimbay.

“We’re going to get food!” He announces loudly to annoy her, lifting their intertwined hands into the air.

“Congrats!” She replies, ducking into her car.

They end up at Walmart, of all places. Connor pushing the cart and spending a lot of time staring into the freezers as he tries to pick a frozen meal.

“They have a Subway.” Kevin reminds him.

“But they have Mac N Cheese, too.” Connor laments holding a box of microwaveable Mac N Cheese in his hand as he hesitates with the freezer door.

“You can buy some for home.” Kevin suggests.

Connor stares at him for a while. Decidedly, he closes the door and throws in the box into the cart. 

“Connor?” Someone says behind them and Connor falters on the other side of the cart like a deer in the headlights as Kevin turns to look at the approaching woman.

“Hi?” Connor replies.

“Is this your boyfriend?” She asks, gesturing to Kevin. She seems timid and afraid like she knows if she steps any closer, Connor will bolt.

“Mom,” Connor shakes his head, a white knuckle grip on the cart, “I’m not doing this with you.”

“I just want to know that you’re okay, Con.” She insists, wringing her hands. “It’s been a while since we last saw you, your sisters and I.”

And that’s when Kevin first notices the girls at the other end of the aisle, both around Hannah’s age.

“What is it? The 11th?” Connor asks, weaseling his phone out of his pocket to double check, “It’s been 8 months and 6 days, Mom. And I’m fine. I’m peachy. No— scratch that, I’m gay. I’m doing great and I’m a homosexual. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Connor’s an animated person, but Kevin’s never seen his sweeping hand movements so aggressive as he waves an accusing finger at her.

“Connor—“ His mother starts.

“Kevin, let’s go.” He decides, pulling the cart towards the other end of the aisle.

“Are you his boyfriend?” Connor’s mom asks, touching Kevin’s arm ever so lightly and just as quickly pulling her hand away like he could hurt her.

“Kevin,” Connor snaps, “you don’t have to answer that.” 

It’s clear to Kevin that Connor’s mom clearly doesn’t agree or condone the lifestyle he’s chosen to lead, but he has to imagine it has to be hard to disown your first and only son. Especially as a mother, but even despite the twinge of sadness he feels seeing things her way – he still falls back to follow Connor.

But Connor’s mom is persistent and she follows after them, just long enough to piss Connor off, even if they aren’t more than halfway down the aisle yet. “Leave us alone.” He hisses, “I don’t want to talk to you. You kicked me out of your house.” 

He says the last part slowly, like he has to spell it out for her.

“It’s not too late, Connor.” She tries to persuade him and Kevin keeps his mouth shut as not to argue that it clearly is if she went through the trouble of disowning him. 

Connor groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not a disease that anyone can cure, Mom. I like men.”

“Do you know God?” She asks Kevin.

“Mom, do not talk to him.” Connor seethes. He’s shaking with anger but Kevin notes that he’s polite enough not to address her by name, no matter how angry she makes him. 

“I’m Mormon.” Kevin answers, hoping it’s enough for her to walk away.

“And you let my son tempt you?” She prods.

“We have to go.” Connor growls, circling the cart to grab Kevin’s hand.

“I chose to be with him.” Kevin assures her as he’s pulled away.

The entire time they checkout, Connor looks like he could scream. He’s fidgety and snippy and he doesn’t want to talk to Kevin; and then they shuffle through their Subway orders and Connor almost loses it when the worker uses regular mayonnaise instead of light mayonnaise, but Kevin’s quick to recover and fix the situation, stuffing an extra dollar or two into the donation jar. 

“Do it.” Kevin says when they slide into the car, “However you need to let it out, do it.”

Connor brings his fist down on the dashboard of Kevin’s Honda and just as quickly he’s recoiling with a yelp of pain.

“Hey,” Kevin frowns, gently taking Connor’s hand in his to inspect it, “you’re gonna be fine. You’re strong and resilient and she doesn’t have to agree with the choices you’ve made because it’s not her life.”

Connor breathes out a halfhearted agreement, still cradling his hand but he leans forward to kiss Kevin in appreciation. “I could do that all day,” he sighs after a pause, “get lost in your eyes — in your lips. Just forget the world.”

He moves to tug on his seatbelt, “Are we taking it too fast? Am I too excited?”

“No,” Kevin assures him, “I think we waited too long for me to make up my mind.”

“No.” Connor is quick to assert, “Having same sex attraction is different than acting on it and if you were only mildly attracted to me the Church would still love you.”

“I’m tired of talking in what ifs.” Kevin sighs, “There’s no ‘what if’ that I like you. I do. I like you, a lot. And we’ll deal with the Church in their own time, but for now I don’t want to worry about what could have been because I like being here. Right now. With you. Breaking the pamphlet rules or buying Mac N Cheese.”

“Or yelling at that guy for using the wrong mayo.” Connor says sheepishly.

“Sure, as long as we’re in the moment.” Kevin laughs.

And Connor laughs too. He leans back in his chair before glancing over to meet Kevin’s eyes with a revelation, “You’re always thinking about the future and I’m always stuck in the past.”

“From now on: the present.” Kevin proposes and Connor reaches across the center console to squeeze his hand in agreement. 

When they arrive back at the school, not a word of their encounter is spoken as they eat their lunch.

“Nike and I did it.” Arnold informs them with a giddy laugh, as he takes up the seat beside Kevin.

“That’s not the kind of thing I want to hear when I’m eating.” Kevin says, covering his mouth as he eats his lunch.

“What do you mean? It was Connor’s idea.” Arnold replies, brows furrowed. 

Connor’s eyes go wide, “What? I never suggested that!”

“Yeah you did, with the clones.” Arnold says, as if to jog his memory and it’s increasingly clear they’re not on the same page.

“Arnold, what are you talking about?” Kevin asks.

“The story.” Arnold expands, “For my creative writing class. Nantucket and I finished it.”

Kevin and Connor share a hopeless glance across the table every time Arnold mispronounces Nabulungi’s name; but they’ve all notably given up trying to get him to say it right and they’re pretty sure Naba is taken with his creativity and lack of repeating aliases.

“And it’s about clones?” Connor double checks, having no idea how he actually contributed.

“Yes.” Arnold nods, fixing his glasses before he launches into the summary, “So, after we talked about Kevin and Jack being Ethan’s clone, I got to thinking. What if the government made clones, but nobody knew? So, in my story, the government clones people with the intention to send the clones to Mars so that we aren’t wasting human life if something goes wrong.”

Kevin already sees a problem with the ethics Arnold has in place in his story, but he lets him continue anyway. 

“So, all of these elite people are cloned, right? So we have the best minds going to Mars. The thing is — they accidentally clone this one guy, the main character, too many times. So this guy and his clone are both running around living almost identical lives and it’s really messy for this guy’s personal relationships. So, the government sends this super cool secret agent to take down the clone, but the secret agent has to get close to the guy and his friends to know which one is the clone and which one isn’t. Over time he recruits the help of this guy’s friends and let’s them in on this government secret and they take the clone down - but also the secret agent and the guy that was cloned fall in love.”

“You said you were basing a character off me.” Kevin blinks, trying to follow the story.

“Yeah, you’re the guy that got cloned too many times.” Arnold says as if it were blatantly obvious. “Connor’s the hot secret agent that falls in love with you.”

“Badass.” Connor grins, lightly knocking his knee against Kevin’s under the table. 

“Nefertiti and I are the best friends that helps take down your clone, but also get a romance plot for ourselves.” Arnold smiles, proud of himself.

“You could have been the guy who gets cloned and Naba could be the secret agent.” Kevin points out.

“But I don’t have a twin.” Arnold blinks.

“Jack and I aren’t—“ Kevin starts, and he knows Arnold knows they aren’t twins, but seeing as Arnold still has yet to say Nabulungi’s name, Kevin isn’t going to fight this fight any further than he already has. “I can’t wait to read it.” He says instead and he genuinely means it.

“I’ll send you the google doc.” Arnold grins, moving to get up.

“I want it too!” Connor requests.

And it’s only a matter of time before Kevin and Connor are reading over Arnold’s work.

“He’s got quite a way with words.” Connor comments, laying half on his bed, half on Kevin’s later that night.

“Oh, he’s an excellent writer.” Kevin agrees, holding his phone up for Connor to see, “But did he insinuate we had sex here?”

“Yeah.” Connor replies, “I want to comment, but I also want to know the teacher’s reaction. Does that make me cruel?”

“I have to say something.” Kevin decides, typing out a comment. Just a lighthearted, well meaning, ‘are you sure about this?’

“It is a fantasy world.” Connor points out.

“Oh yeah?” Kevin teases, “Is your fantasy to have your way with multiple of me?”

At first Connor’s stunned by Kevin’s quip, having watched him dodge sex jokes all day long, but he’s quickly composing himself for a comeback. “I can barely handle one of you.” He rolls his eyes, moving to shove Kevin lightly.

They stew in a comfortable silence, before Kevin speaks up. “What’re we gonna do tomorrow?”

And Connor almost refutes that he’ll go to Chris’ while Kevin and his family observe the Sabbath Day as he has for the past couple weeks; before he remembers.

“Have you never not observed the Sabbath Day?” Connor inquires.

“There was one week I was really sick with mono and—“

“How’d you get mono if I was your first kiss?” Connor interrupts.

“Sharing a water bottle.” Kevin shrugs.

“No offense, but you’re kind of a germaphobe.” Connor replies.

“Because I got mono.” Kevin answers.

“Right.” Connor nods, “You got mono from sharing a water bottle and didn’t observe Sabbath so now you won’t even eat my left over pizza.” 

“You offered me the crust.” Kevin argues. 

“The crust is the best part.” Connor shrugs and judging by Kevin’s reaction, he has very strong crust opinions.

“On deep dish pizza, maybe.” Kevin retorts, “But nobody ever eats pizza crust or peanut butter and jelly crust. They literally make Uncrustables.”

Connor adapts the kind of tone used when talking to babies or pets, “What kind of shape would you like your sandwiches cut in, honey.”

Kevin makes a big todo about laying down and facing away from Connor, purposefully ignoring him.

“I’m putting my money on hearts.” Connor announces.

His phone pings. “No.” He reads out loud, “Really? Triangle, you’re that boring?”

Squinting face emoji.

“You’re a dork.” Connor replies, reaching to switch off the light, “But I love you.”

“Are we gonna talk about that?” Kevin breaks his momentary silence. 

“It was a slip.” Connor replies, having just as quickly realized what he said and acknowledged that he couldn’t take it back now that it was out there.

“I know what we’re doing tomorrow.” Kevin says vaguely.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Connor half jokes.

“What? No! We aren’t even officially dating yet. I’m taking you on a date tomorrow.” Kevin responds.

“I didn’t mean to say that.” Connor tries to backtrack after a beat, “I mean, I meant it, I guess. But it’s been, what, one day? That’s really soon—“

“Connor,” Kevin shuts him up, “we’re living in the moment. I love you too.”

“Okay.” Connor says, “But we’re not rushing into things.” 

“We’re figuring things out.” Kevin compromises.

“But really,” Connor says after another beat, “we’ve known each other for at least two months and I’ve been flirting with you for most of that time, so I don’t think it’s completely—“

“Connor, go to bed.” Kevin replies having already gotten comfortable for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!!
> 
> I couldn’t decide if I should take things really slow or have this raw and open fumbling and I found it to be almost cuter that neither of them is quite sure what they’re doing, but they’re both trying even if they’re really pushing the gas for somethings and the brakes for others. 
> 
> I know I’ll have to wrap this up eventually, but I’m not sure how and honestly? I’d be sad to see it go. I have some ideas, but feel free to send anything you want to see my way. 
> 
> Kudos and comments, as always, are appreciated. Let me know if I’m portraying anything wrong, because it helps me as a writer OR let me know what you loved! And hopefully I can do more of that! Much love <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY I’M SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER. I KEPT PSYCHING MYSELF OUT AND SECOND GUESSING MYSELF BECAUSE — AND I CAN’T STRESS THIS ENOUGH — I AM KEVIN PRICE. 
> 
> Enough about me. Carry on.

Connor’s spent three weeks immersed in the Price family. Sometimes, he feels guilty; he feels he’s taking time and resources from a family that already has their hands full with so many kids just because his family no longer deemed him worthy of their sponsorship.

Though most times, it’s nice living with the Price’s. He’s not treated any different than the other kids. He’s included in dinner and other various activities, rides are offered if he ever needs them and they’re not afraid to put him to work with the other kids or chastise him when needed. Things like, “Connor, shoes off at the door please.”

And he finds, three weeks later that he knows the ins and outs. Colin, most definitely will snitch on anything you do, even if he’s just trying to explain how he thinks it’s cool the way you do mundane things like tie your shoes. Hannah is constantly dancing and encouraging Connor to join her. She’s an eighth grader and she’s scared to start high school; Kevin tries to ease her worries but Jack likes to play on her fear on occasion. Jack’s always engaged in a comedy routine and Kevin — well, he’s beautiful and imperfect and he’s been stealing kisses for the past day and Connor’s never been as taken with someone as he is with Kevin.

Connor finds, he sleeps better at the Price house. Where he’s provided with a real bed. Sometimes he feels guilty for telling Chris he’d rather sleep at Kevin’s, but that couch does things to his back and not only that — but there’s a sadness lingering in the atmosphere there that Connor doesn’t fault them for.

Though, Connor still faces residual hell dreams and the occasional, resulting bouts of insomnia. He spends a lot of time looking at the wooden frame of the bed above him. Or out into the room, trying to focus over Kevin so he’s not watching him sleep.

He tries to focus on Jack’s soft snoring or Kevin’s sleep mumblings to help him fall asleep. Most of the time, Kevin doesn’t say anything useful — just groans or strings of incoherent, snuffling gibberish. When he does say words, they almost never make sense. Connor feels like a fly on the wall, but he has to admit his favorite incoherent mumbling has to be; “I just think it’s really depressing that they thought they had to kill the dog for the movie to be good, because it . . . wasn’t.”

Sometimes, Connor will admit, he tries to engage conversations to occupy his own boredom. It’s really hit or miss if Kevin responds, and 9/10 of his responses make absolutely no sense. Ultimately, it’s harmless fun for Connor and he’ll readily admit that he’s coerced an expletive or two out of his . . . lover? Not yet boyfriend, more than friend, less than friends with benefits.

The insomnia is potent after he accidentally bombs Kevin with an ‘I love you,’ hours after Kevin had made the tedious decision of accepting his love. He toes a line of honor and guilt. A nagging voice in the back of his head tries to convince him of the very same things his parents and bishop had tried to drill into his head. But it’s not uncommon for Connor to mull over his past; even if he’d promised Kevin he was strictly in the present. He just can’t help where his mind wanders.

His dwelling on the past is interrupted by the very person who had compromised with him to focus on the present. However unconscious, Kevin makes a show of rolling onto his back with a grunt.

Connor doesn’t think anything of it, lapsing back to his thoughts until Kevin let’s out a breathy moan next to him and Connor freezes. Butterflies seem to explode in his stomach, forcing their way up his throat and lodging themselves there as he holds statue still.

He hopes, for his sake, that that noise was a one time only ordeal. Because Connor wants to have found it attractive; but mostly he feels as though he’s intruding. He can’t help that Kevin’s so vocal about what he’s dreaming.

Then it happens again and Connor wants to wake him, like he does when he knows Kevin is having a bad dream, but he’s afraid it’ll only be more awkward if he does. 

So, he rolls over to face the wall, pulling a pillow over his head. He finds himself falling asleep as Kevin’s waking up and rushing off to bathroom, trying to be as quiet as he can.

Connor faces a hard to swallow truth.

He’s known all along that Kevin is somewhat naive and innocent and their conversation earlier that day about the pamphlet had only reinforced that. Connor was Kevin’s first kiss. He’s never touched himself, much less another man. Realistically, Kevin has no idea what he’s doing.

But Connor’s the complete opposite. In fact, he’s sort of a whirlwind. He’s had boyfriends, sure, but in the grand scheme of things — they were more or less flings than proper boyfriends. Those boys, Steve included, had (sometimes quite literally) filled a hole within himself.

He doesn’t want Kevin to be like that. He doesn’t want to rush into things, only to see himself just as quickly fall out of them. He doesn’t want to push Kevin farther than he’s willing to go. And more than that, he doesn’t want to ruin Kevin.

He’s desperately afraid of ruining the experience of first love for Kevin.

All day, he had found himself asking if they were taking it too fast. Kevin had always assured him that he didn’t think so, but Connor’s realizing now that Kevin wouldn’t know. Unlike Connor, he doesn’t have any other relationship timelines to measure against.

“You okay?” Connor asks when Kevin returns to the darkness and the silence of the room.

“Yeah, just a bloody nose.” Kevin lies as he strips the sheets in the dark and Connor doesn’t press any further in fear of ruining what they have going for them.

“Kevin,” Connor prompts when Kevin returns from throwing the sheets into the washing machine, he scoots backward to make room, “come lay down.”

“But my parents.” Kevin worries.

“You can’t put sheets on in the dark.” Connor coaxes and after a moment of deliberation, Kevin joins him. As Kevin falls asleep, Connor decides that from here on out it’s up to Kevin to call the shots so that Connor doesn’t overstep.

Kevin’s a natural leader, so it’s not terribly difficult for Connor to get him to take the reigns.

Connor’s surprised to wake before Kevin and with a glance at his phone, he’s more surprised to find that Kevin probably turned off his Sunday alarm now that he doesn’t have to go to Church. He suspects Jack is long gone from the top bunk; probably sitting idly next to his parents.

“Kevin.” Connor whispers, nudging Kevin lightly. Kevin grunts in response. “I need to get out.” He elaborates in hopes that Kevin will rearrange himself in such a way that he can easily slip out of the bed.

Kevin complies, barely and Connor’s pretty sure he’s already asleep by the time he finally gets himself out of the lower bunk to use the washroom.

The best times for reflection — or arguably, the worst times for your thoughts to catch you alone and vulnerable — are just before sleep and in the shower. Seeing as Connor had spent the night’s entirety worrying about his relationship, he finds himself thinking about the supermarket encounter from the day before as he stands in the shower.

He wants to say he can’t believe his mom would do such a thing, but really, he’d seen it coming all along. It was only inevitable. He sometimes saw his sisters in passing, at different school events, but he couldn’t reach out. However accepting they might be of his sexuality; because there was the possibility that they would tell his parents or worse, they had become just as small minded as his father in particular.

He finds it so unfair for two impressionable young girls to live in an environment like that, but there’s nothing he can do.

Kevin’s still sleeping when he gets out of the shower, so Connor resigns himself to the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal. He props his phone up against the cereal box as he FaceTimes Chris.

He has a fleeting thought about Chris not wanting anything to do with his phone, but Connor needs to bounce his thoughts off of his best friend. Even if it is perhaps a little selfish.

“What’s up?” Chris asks as he answers the phone.

“Hi, Connor.” James waves in the background and Connor thinks the bruising looks worse, but he knows things like that take time to heal and he’d gifted James some makeup to use when he needs to go out in public. 

“Hey, guys.” Connor greets. “Are you busy?”

“No, I was just winning at Mario Kart.” James assures him, “I’m gonna grab something to eat though, give you guys some time to talk.”

“What’s going on, Con?” Chris asks. Connor hears the bedroom door close on the other end and Chris is jostling the phone as he gets in a more comfortable position.

Connor stirs his spoon through his cereal, trying to approach the situation. “My mom harassed Kevin and I at Walmart yesterday.”

“What’d she want?” Chris responds, “Why now?”

Connor laughs, because his other option is to cry and by now he’s shed enough tears on his disownment. “She wanted to know if Kevin knew God and if so, why did he let me tempt him with something so impure and forbidden as homosexuality. And I don’t know why now, maybe because she saw me with a boy. I’ll never understand why she does the things she does.”

“Are you okay?” Chris asks, genuinely.

“Yeah.” Connor replies, “I was really mad. Now, I guess I’m just confused. Or upset. I don’t know. I don’t understand why it happened and I wish it hadn’t, I wish she could just stay away from me. It’s like she doesn’t know how much she’s hurt me and that’s not fair for Kevin. He has such a nice family and for mine to come out of the blue like that while he’s sorting everything out. He shouldn’t have to go through what I did, I don’t wish that on anyone.”

“How did Kevin react?” Chris asks.

Connor thinks back, trying to think past his own stewing anger. “I guess he wasn’t really phased, he was more worried about me. I don’t know, I ended up punching his dashboard.”

“As one does.” Chris nods.

“You’re gonna be a good therapist.” Connor comments, stirring his spoon through his cereal. “How’s James?”

“Turning it off.” Chris replies, “We looked into apartments, but I don’t think his mom could ever bring herself to leave his dad.”

“But that’s domestic abuse.” Connor groans and they’ve been over it a thousand times before without having ever solved the problem. James had always been better at turning it off than either of them. Connor gave in too quickly to temptation and Lauren’s death had really hit everyone harder than expected.

“I know.” Chris sighs, “But divorce isn’t a mormon practice.”

“Neither is alcoholism.” Connor says bitterly.

“We’re not meant to understand it.” Chris surrenders, quick to change the subject. “What’re your plans for today? Did Kevin go to Church?”

“No,” Connor shakes his head, “he’s sleeping. He’s got ridiculous alarms set and this could very well be the first time he’s ever slept in.”

Connor glances toward the kitchen entrance as if to make sure Kevin isn’t standing there and he lowers his voice. “He had a sex dream last night and then lied about it and I’m not upset or anything, it just made me realize that he’s not sexually experienced at all.” 

“You knew that going in.” Chris reminds him.

“Yeah, but I’m just afraid I’ll ruin him.” Connor sighs, “Like my mom said.”

“Kevin’s not going to do anything he’s not ready for. He thinks too hard about everything.” Chris assures him.

“I just don’t want him to be another Steve.” Connor whines.

“Nobody liked Steve, Connor. Steve is everything Kevin isn’t.” Chris reminds him, “You guys have wonderful communication. You’re gonna be fine. If it’s any consolation, we like Kevin. And Kevin really likes you.”

Connor can’t argue with that. Even he found he didn’t like Steve. He liked the idea of Steve: an attractive boyfriend, but the drugs and the drama that followed were - in hindsight - less than fun.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your game.” Connor apologizes, trying to make up for his selfishness.

“He was whining to eat anyway, but he didn’t want to surrender his wins.” Chris assures him.

“You’ve never been good at video games.” Connor teases. 

Chris rolls his eyes, but Connor isn’t wrong. 

“I’ll let you get back to your weekend.” Connor says.

“Do you have anything planned?” Chris asks before he can hang up.

“Kevin’s gonna take me out.” Connor replies, unable to hide his excitement.

“Cute.” Chris grins, sharing in his excitement with a grin. “Don’t worry so much, you two will come out of this awkward phase alive. He’ll find his footing.”

“Thanks, Chris.” Connor smiles, “You’re the best. Love you.”

“Love you too, Con.” Chris replies. And Connor briefly considers that friendships like this are what made it so easy and second nature to say, ‘I love you.’ As Chris hangs up, Connor realizes he forgot to tell him about that. 

Kevin wakes not too soon after Connor hangs up the phone, he’s a creature of habit and without an alarm he’s a little groggy and overslept.

“What’s the plan for today?” Connor tries to engage him in conversation despite his sluggish demeanor.

“A date.” Kevin replies, pressing a kiss to Connor’s forehead and rounding the table to sit across from him after he’s grabbed a bowl and spoon.

“What kind of date?” Connor tries to inquire.

“A fun one.” Kevin smiles tiredly.

“Are you okay?” Connor asks, running the side of his socked foot across Kevin’s ankle under the table.

“Yeah, I forgot to set a different alarm after deleting my Sunday alarm and I overslept.” Kevin explains, “I’m just tired.”

“How’s your nose?” Connor asks, knowing full well he shouldn’t have mentioned it. He should have just left it alone but he and Kevin are similar in the need to pick at things that are better left alone.

“My nose?” Kevin blinks, taking a second to remember, “Oh, that. I’m fine.“

“Kevin,” Connor reaches for his hand across the table, “I know.”

“Know what?” Kevin blinks again and maybe they’re both trying to deny it.

Connor squeezes his hand and decides it was probably better left unsaid as he pushes the cereal box across the table. “That you’re fine.” He provides, instead. “Do I need to dress up for this date?” 

“Business Casual.” Kevin says, using his hand to cover his mouthful of cereal.

“I’m intrigued.” Connor hums, pushing himself away from the table with his empty bowl. “I’ll go change.”

“I’ll shower in a minute here.” Kevin promises, Connor collecting a kiss on his way to the kitchen.

As he passes the dining room again, he finds himself stopping short. “Kevin, I don’t want to do anything expensive. I know you don’t have a job and—“

“I’ve got money.” Kevin assures him.

“I didn’t say you didn’t, I just said I don’t want to do anything expensive.” Connor says, like he has to apologize. “If it’s really expensive, I’ll help pay. I insist.”

“You don’t have a job either.” Kevin replies, pointedly.

“Well, not right now.” Connor wrings his hands, “But I have money left over and Mr. Hatimbi is really understanding. He said he’d give me and Naba our jobs back as soon as the show is done, but for now we need to focus on that and our schoolwork. And he was nice enough to give me a couple of paid vacation days when Lauren died even though I’m technically on a leave of absence.”

Connor knows he’s rambling and he’s not trying to prove any points by asserting that he has a job lined up or money in the bank, but he really doesn’t feel it’s fair for Kevin to pay for everything on the first date.

“Money isn’t an issue.” Kevin assures him again. “I get an allowance and I still have money leftover from Christmas.”

With Connor being so cut off from his family, he sometimes forgets that other people have families who gift them things. He guesses Price family holidays are plentiful in nature due to the number of extended family members they have.

“Okay, I just . . .” Connor trails off, “I guess I feel like it’s only fair if I pitch in.” 

“I’m telling you, there’s nothing to worry about.” Kevin replies and he starts to laugh, but Connor doesn’t know why, “It’s free admission.”

“Oh.” Connor says, dumbly.

“You can pick up the tip for lunch or something.” Kevin compromises, “If it means that much to you.”

“I just want to do this the right way.” Connor sighs as Kevin pushes his chair away from the table. He crosses over to Connor, briefly abandoning his dirty dishes on the edge of the table as he cups Connor’s face in his hands. “We’re in this together.” Connor asserts, searching Kevin’s eyes and when Kevin leans in, he melts into the kiss.

“Of course we’re in this together.” Kevin grins, “That’s how these sorts of things work, right?”

“Right.” Connor breathes. And he remembers Chris telling him that Kevin isn’t Steve. Chris couldn’t be any more right. 

“And if we’re in this together I really just have to tell you that I know you had a sex dream and I didn’t know if I should wake you and then you kept lying about it, but I think I really just need to address it.” He blurts out, immediately wincing like Kevin’s going to drop him on the dining room floor. He too has his moments of childish impulsivity, much like Kevin.

He knows he’s overstepping, even though he’d promised himself the night before that he wouldn’t. But passing off the reigns is so much harder than he’d expected and he’s got a pent up nervousness bubbling inside of him.

“I,” Kevin stammers but he isn’t pulling away or leaving Connor for dead, “I guess if we had to talk about the I love you, we have to talk about this too.”

“No, no we don’t.” Connor is quick to say, nervous and fidgeting with erasing the wrinkles in Kevin’s shirt as he flattens his hands across his chest, “I have no impulse control. It’s just at the front of my mind, I guess. I should stop talking. It doesn’t matter.”

He’s quick to shut his mouth, hanging his head to study his socks. 

“You were in it.” Kevin says shyly and when Connor glances up he can see the flush of red that covers Kevin’s cheeks. “I mean, I’ve had them before, but I just always— I just thought they were hell dreams.”

“That’s normal.” Connor is quick to assure him, cupping his face as he leans up to kiss him with a bout of relief washing over him. “That’s totally normal. It’s all so frowned upon and it’s just— you’re normal. You don’t have to tell me. I mean, you didn’t have to tell me, but it’s not— it’s— you are so normal, Kevin.”

“Thank you?” Kevin replies with a laugh, “Were you worried it wasn’t you?” 

“I don’t know—“ Connor replies, but deep down he knows the answer is yes, “I just— my mom. I guess I’m just afraid that she’s right and that I’m contaminating you or something and I don’t know, you’re different.”

“I thought I was normal?” Kevin teases, cautiously.

“You are.” Connor assures him, “Normal different. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever been with. You’re so normal that it’s different for me, I guess. I just— I don’t know why I’m even bothering with it.”

“Bothering with me?” Kevin asks.

Connor’s quick to shake his head, clinging to Kevin like he needs the support. “Nono, of course not. Bothering with what my mom says or thinks.”

“How much sleep did you get last night?” Kevin asks, running his hand up and down Connor’s arm.

“A couple hours.” Connor confesses.

“You just seem distressed.” Kevin replies, concern tugging at his features.

“I’m scared.” Connor whispers, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I just don’t want to ruin a good thing.”

Kevin bites his lip, “If Jack were here he’d impart knowledge on us like, ‘You guys aren’t fortune tellers.’”

“I’m trying so hard to live in the moment.” Connor confesses, “But I’m running from my past and I’m afraid of the future.”

“Take a nap.” Kevin coaxes, “I’ll take my shower and then we can go on our date, okay? I have a feeling that might help.”

* * *

 

It’d be foolish to think Kevin isn’t worried. He has no idea what he’s doing and he’d be lying if he didn’t say Connor has him sort of freaked out.

He greatly appreciates Connor’s candor, but he doesn’t exactly see what there is to be worried about. Granted, Connor’s in an entirely different boat than him. Kevin’s never been told what he’s feeling, this attraction to another man, is wrong. Connor has had that mentality drilled into his head for years now.

After his shower he finishes up some of his chores: moving around the laundry loads, filling the dishwasher, taking out the trash. Little things to keep his idle hands busy so that Connor can get the most sleep possible.

He thinks about what Connor had said, about how he doesn’t have a job. Kevin’s just too busy to hold one at present. Between the play and the dance lessons and formerly Church; but Kevin’s also got a basic nursing assistant’s training class that he has to scrounge up time to fulfill.

He supposes now, after the Church gets ahold of his letter he’ll have to drop his seminary course and take up a study hall. Which, theoretically he could use to get in some hours at the nursing home for his CNA class because he would still have that travel period.

And in the grand scheme of things, Kevin isn’t giving up his dream to help people. He’s just NOT helping people through the Church, but he is with medicine and he supposed that was the dream all along - but there was supposed to be a mission that bridged these two worlds and cemented these ideas.

He’s quiet when he tiptoes into his room to grab his date outfit; staring into a closet that had been prepared so thoroughly for his mission. 12 white shirts. 2 dark, conservative suits. 6 pairs of dress slacks. Conservative ties, socks, shoes. Nothing distracting or flashy. Unlike the couple fun patterned dress shirts, or ties Kevin had stashed away. Or his collection of fun dress socks. Some of which Asmeret had trash talked in the dressing rooms.

(Kevin’s sock collection isn’t something he ever really brings up, but his parents and relatives donate to it every Christmas or birthday. He’s got socks with bumble bees and socks with breakfast foods. Most of them, admittedly hideous, but that’s what he loves about them.)

Kevin will be the first to admit he much prefers pullover sweaters and jeans to the mission attire; but he also supposes the navy BYU embroidered sweater he’d poached from Jack shouldn’t be something he keeps in his everyday wardrobe.

“What’re you doing?” Connor asks, from his spot on the bed.

Kevin jumps, quick to spin around. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I was.” Connor replies, rubbing at his face, “And then I woke up and you were just standing there.”

“I’m trying to pick out a shirt.” Kevin confesses, “I just don’t want to look like a lumberjack or, you know . . . a mormon.” 

“What about the black one with the little white flowers?” Connor hums in thought.

Kevin turns back to his closet, “That’s what I was thinking.”

“If we were both thinking it then it must be fate.” Connor teases, moving to stretch. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Maybe after you change.” Kevin replies, gathering his new outfit to change in the bathroom.

But Kevin doesn’t tell him, no matter how much Connor whines and begs the entire car ride.

“Kevin,” Connor puts a hand over his mouth as they pull up, “the fine arts museum?”

“You don’t like it?” Kevin worries.

“No, I love it.” Connor replies, quick to take his seatbelt off and get out of the car the minute Kevin’s put it in park.

“This is so thoughtful,” He says, turning to make sure Kevin’s there, “I love it.”

Kevin smiles and Connor loops their arms together as they head for the doors. Kevin had taken photography as an elective a few years back and had two free admit student passes left over that had been sitting, lonely on the cork board next to the family calendar. He thought now was the perfect time to use them.

Connor’s quick to pick up a brochure, thumbing through the exhibit lists and map.

The museum seems daunting with it’s tall walls and identical hallways, but everything’s labeled and they jump right in at the beginning.

“Have you been before?” Kevin asks as they walk.

“No, I’ve never been to any of the museums.” Connor confesses, taking his eyes off the artwork to look at Kevin. “You?”

“Yeah, we do a lot of family outings. The zoo, the aquarium, the museums.” Kevin explains, “Usually in the summer or on school breaks when we aren’t so busy.”

“My grandparents used to take my sisters and I to see the Nutcracker every winter.” Connor replies, voice low so as not to disturb the other patrons. “But that was the only time we ever really indulged, I guess.”

“Is that why you’re a dancer?” Kevin inquires and they find they don’t have to look at each other to learn more about one another; instead asking questions back and forth as they admire the artwork.

“Oh definitely.” Connor answers, leaning in to look at the detail of a sculpture encased in glass. “I think when I asked for dance lessons, my dad really saw that as the first nail in the coffin.”

“You’re a wonderful dance captain.” Kevin remarks, because he can’t take the pain of the past away.

“Oh my God.” Connor says, resting his hand on Kevin’s bicep. He laughs at a memory he has yet to share, “You should have seen the look on my dad’s face when I asked for tap shoes.”

They move on, from the first exhibit and from the tales of unaccepting parents.

“Look at that cat.” Connor grins, looking back at Kevin to make sure he’s seen it too.

“I thought I learned something about the symbolism of cats in Renaissance paintings.” Kevin tries to think back.

“Well, they were seen as demonic in the Middle Ages.” Connor explains, “But the Renaissance rediscovered their beauty and companionship.”

“Did you take AP European History?” Kevin asks.

“Sophomore year.” Connor nods.

“You took it as a Sophomore?” Kevin gawks because the class is notoriously hard and he barely passed as a Junior, “Did you pass the test?”

“Yeah, but I like history.” Connor shrugs, “And I might have had a crush on the teacher. Though, I remembered the thing about the cats because we had one.”

“You had a cat?”

“Yeah, have you never had a pet?” Connor inquires.

“We had a dog when I was really young.” Kevin says as they move on to the next piece of artwork, “Jack and Ethan remember her better than I do. She was some kind of shepherd dog, but she was ginormous and she looked like a bear. I think I was, like, 7 when she passed away.”

“What was her name?”

Kevin laughs, “Gidget.”

“Our cat’s name was Pretzel.” Connor supplies, “We had a dog named Bagheera.”

“But that’s the panther from the Jungle Book.” Kevin says pointedly.

“Well we couldn’t own a panther.” Connor teases, “And I didn’t name it.”

“Oh, we had fish once.” Kevin remembers, “Kitty and Simon. Colin got to take them home after a science experiment his class did and they . . . did not live long.”

“That’s too bad.” Connor replies basking in the idle chatter, “Why don’t you guys have pets now?”

Kevin shrugs, hands in his pockets, “Jack’s kind of like a dog. In that I mean, he’s a handful.”

Connor laughs, “You guys are so mean to each other.”

Kevin can’t help but laugh either. “Are you getting hungry? There’s a cafe across from this exhibit.”

“A little.” Connor confesses, so they head over and order off the menu.

“Coffee’s a bold choice.” Connor grins, nudging Kevin from across the table.

“I’m trying new things.” Kevin replies, but really he’s staring into the cup unsure if he can go through with it. “I didn’t want water and I don’t like tea.”

“Personally, I’m not a fan of coffee. But I think you’ve got plenty of cream and sugar in there.” He says, watching Kevin take the first sip. 

“I like it.” Kevin decides, “But I don’t think I can ever get behind tea.”

“More for me.” Connor shrugs as Kevin splits the scone he ordered, pushing half of it towards Connor on a napkin. “Thanks.” He smiles, adoringly.

They people watch while the eat, commenting assumptions on passing patrons lives for shits and giggles. 

“Too bad Jack isn’t here with his camera to take cute pictures of us.” Connor comments, leaning into the table as he finishes his tea.

“You’re underestimating my selfie skills.” Kevin replies.

Connor turns to look at him, “Have you ever taken a selfie in your life?”

“Yes.” Kevin retorts, “With Arnold and with my family.” He pauses, thinking before he’s pointing at Connor, “And that one Kimbay took at the pizzaplace.”

“You looked drunk in that photo.” Connor reminds him.

Kevin waves a hand, “Bad lighting.”

“Why don’t we go find the prettiest piece of artwork and have someone else take a picture of us standing next to it?” Connor decides.

“I’m looking at it.” Kevin replies and Connor immediately looks down at his scone.

“I’m sorry,” He says, “did you order cheese with this? That was God awful, Kevin Price.”

Kevin scoffs.

“You’re less than smooth.” Connor replies, “And you’re unoriginal. Was that your plan this entire time? To compare me to the artwork?”

“Shut up.” Kevin replies, offering Connor his hand to stand as he steals a quick kiss and moves to throw his trash away.

“You taste like coffee.” Connor wrinkles his nose.

“Yeah, well, you taste like shutting down my pickup lines.” Kevin shoots back.

“You don’t have to pick me up.” Connor rolls his eyes, “You’ve already got me. I don’t plan on going anywhere.” 

Kevin grins, reaching for the map he’d shoved in his back pocket after Connor had gotten tired of carrying it. “Where to next?”

“Let’s take a walk through sculptures.” Connor proposes, leaning in to help Kevin read the map. He gets them headed in the right direction and they stop to admire some of the artwork on the way.

“So what exactly do you do for Naba’s dad?” Kevin asks as they walk.

“Get yelled at.” Connor laughs, resting his head on Kevin’s arm, “He owns a bakery and mostly Naba and I goof off when business is slow, but I have all sorts of responsibilities. I mostly tend the cash register and clean up, sometimes they let me bake.”

“Can you bake?” Kevin teases.

“That’s the real question isn’t it?” Connor laughs again and Kevin would keep him laughing forever if he could. “I dabble.”

“Do your goods make it to the display case.” Kevin teases again as they walk.

“God, no.” Connor laughs and Kevin’s admittedly proud of himself to have evoked that noise for a third time. “Anything I make is eaten before it can go out.” 

“How do they fare without you and Nabulungi?” Kevin asks.

“Mafala’s got a decent staff. They probably get a lot more work done.” Connor answers, “There’s Gotswana, Middala, Mutumbo and Ghali.”

“I thought Mormon names were weird.” Kevin hums.

“I have to admit, for such a large family I was surprised to find there wasn’t a Brigham or an Ammon or a Cohyn or a Layton—“ Connor tries to tease, before Kevin interrupts him. 

“Okok,” Kevin laughs, “my mom would never let my dad get away with that.”

“Right.” Connor smiles, “Because he’s a Brady and she’s an Erin.”

“Exactly.” Kevin replies.

“They keep telling me, ‘Please, call me Brady. Call me Erin.’ And your mom even cleared me to call her Mom, but I just— if we’re dating. Because that’s the goal, right? I couldn’t call my boyfriend’s parents by their first names, much less Mom or Dad.” Connor explains.

“If my dad hasn’t cleared you for Dad, that’s a big no.” Kevin warns, “Arnold tried once and he never tried again even though he has official permission now. Though sometimes he does call my mom ‘Mrs. Mom.’”

They walk on a bit before Kevin stops short, “Why don’t we just slap a label on this now? Labels make things so much easier to understand. And having you as my boyfriend, but not my boyfriend is so . . .”

“Weird? Confusing?” Connor supplies, looking up at Kevin. “Do you want to take that step? Do you want to be boyfriends?”

“I mean unless you wanted to jump straight to husbands.” Kevin jokes, with a nervous laugh, “But I don’t know that we’re ready for that.”

“God, no.” Connor laughs, “Let’s work with boyfriends for a while. Maybe a long while.”

“A long while is fine with me.” Kevin agrees.

“Or maybe a short while, we’re kind of tumultuous.” Connor teases.

“Someone’s whipping out the vocab words.” Kevin jokes and Connor pinches his arm lightly in retaliation.

“Let’s take a picture here.” Connor proposes, “As boyfriends.”

“As boyfriends.” Kevin cements, sliding his phone out of his back pocket.

“Do you want me to take the picture?” A woman offers as Kevin lifts his phone.

“If it’s not a hassle.” Connor is quick to say and she waves a dismissive hand, gingerly taking Kevin’s phone as they stand back against the gaping windows with statues on either side of them.

“You said boyfriends?” She asks after taking a couple pictures, “Not to eavesdrop, but wouldn’t you want one of the two of you kissing— unless you haven’t—“

Connor raises his eyebrows at Kevin. “You want to add to the collection?”

Kevin grins in response, leaning in to kiss Connor.

“Got it.” The woman grins handing Kevin his phone back, “Congrats, guys.”

“Thank you so much.” Kevin and Connor both express.

“Maybe the world isn’t complete shit.” Connor hums as they move on. “We’ll have to get those framed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to focus on Connor for a while and his way of thinking and his obstacles and his nerves. And I felt I wrote this ~omnisciently~ enough to do so. 
> 
> I kept bugging my friends, trying to see what they wanted to come of Connor and Kevin’s date and I hope I gave everyone what they wanted — but if I didn’t leave a comment and we can explore another date! 
> 
> I know I’m my biggest obstacle so this is late because I kept telling myself I had to get it just right — and I don’t know if I fully achieved the perfection I wanted, but I’m content enough. 
> 
> As always, comments and kudos appreciated. And please feel free to leave requests! (I’ve had a request or two that I actually already had noted in my drafts and it’s really cool to see that I planned to take the story in the direction you want to see it go!) 
> 
> Much love! I also joined Tumblr (granted I don’t really know how to use it?) but you can follow me there if you want @ afterafternoons


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Homophobia.

“Kevin,” Mr. Price calls from the kitchen, “phone’s for you.”

Kevin groans, in the middle of trying to fix his tie in preparation for their last weekend of performances. But he jogs out to the kitchen to collect the phone anyway.

“Hi, Kevin.” The caller greets on the other end of the phone, “This is Bishop Harris. I recently received your letter and I just wanted to—“

“Oh about that,” Kevin interrupts, “I’m actually good, you know, with removing myself from the Church. I’m of sound mind, so I’d just really appreciate if you didn’t call again. Tell Zach I said hi, Mr. Harris.”

Kevin hangs up the phone, setting it back on the receiver.

“Kevin,” his father reprimands, “you could’ve heard him out.”

Kevin shakes his head with a confused laugh, “He was just going to tell me that I’m committing a sin and that being gay is wrong.”

“Bishop Harris is a family friend, Kevin. His wife was one of your joy school teachers.” His father reminds him.

“I just think if he’s going to call about my sexuality, he should call about mom’s coffee habit.” Kevin shrugs, fiddling with his unfinished tie as he goes to head back to his room.

“Kevin.” His father stops him, handing him a letter.

The return address reads his local ward.

“Mom throws these away.” Kevin blinks, setting the letter onto the counter.

“Maybe you should read them.” His father responds, thumbing through the mail.

Normally, Kevin is submissive to his father. The leader of the household, but he can’t seem to bite his tongue this time around. “Is there an issue?” He tries to clarify. “You said you weren’t mad about— about me being gay.”

“I’m not mad.” His father responds, glancing up from the mail at his son.

“It’s just,” Kevin begins, knowing full well he could just drop it now, “you’ve told me twice now that I should hear the Church out. But I submitted my letter and I’m looking at other schools and other opportunities for community service. I’ve resigned myself.”

“Some of us are still a part of the Church, Kevin.” His father asserts.

“Okay, well, when they call for you—“ Kevin begins.

“Kevin.” His father cuts him off already changing the subject, “Make sure that room is clean before you leave. Ethan and Sarah are spending the night.”

Kevin nods curtly, tongue in cheek. “Will do.”

“Who was it?” Connor looks up from his phone, recently hooked on some new game Arnold had recommended to the cast and crew that Kevin never quite figured out.

“Bishop Harris.” Kevin says, pursing his lips as he turns to face the mirror so he can finally get his tie tied.

“You seem tense.” Connor frowns, abandoning his phone in favor of first massaging Kevin’s shoulders before he’s moved to tie Kevin’s tie for him. 

“My dad thinks I should have heard him out.” Kevin says, anger lacing his voice as he watches Connor’s nimble fingers quickly tie and smooth out his tie. “And that I should read the letters. And he probably thinks I shouldn’t be gay.”

Connor frowns, “Whether we like it or not, society’s made this a particularly hard pill to swallow. I can see he’s trying and maybe this is just his way of making sure you know what you’re doing. Like I did, remember?”

“It’s been a week.” Connor reminds him, smoothing his hands down Kevin’s arms before he’s reaching to squeeze his hands in his own.

“Exactly. A whole week and he said he wasn’t mad.” Kevin frowns.

“I don’t think he’s mad.” Connor assures him.

“He’s not happy.” Kevin says pointedly and Connor sighs.

“He’s trying harder than either of my parents did.” Connor reminds him, reaching to cup his face. He presses a kiss to Kevin’s lips, offering a smile.

“I’m sorry.” Kevin sighs, straightening his tie even though Connor’s already covered that base. He reciprocates Connor’s quick peck before he’s moving to tuck away the trundle bed. 

“Ethan and Sarah are staying the night, so you know what that means.” Kevin replies, voice laced with venom and sarcasm but only because he’s frustrated with his father.

“It means,” Connor reminds him, roping Kevin closer with his hands on his hips, “we get to cuddle.”

“Supervised by Jack.” Kevin reminds him, mood thoroughly soured and Connor backs off.

“Well, tomorrow we can stay at Chris’ house when his family hosts the cast party.” Connor tries to compromise, moving to push in the chair for the desk and overall tidy up small things to ease Kevin’s nerves.

“So my Dad can think we’re having a big gay orgy with Chris and James?” Kevin laughs bitterly.

“Kevin.” Connor stops short, taking offense. “If you’re going to act like this, I’m going to ask Chris to come and pick me up.”

“I’m sorry.” Kevin’s quick to apologize, face softening.

“If he’s not going to be an ally,” Connor says, “we have to support each other. It’s not going to do anything for anyone if we tear each other apart every time someone doesn’t agree; because let me tell you Kevin, it’s Utah — and there’s a lot of Mormons here that won’t agree with us. We were lucky that that woman at the museum wanted to take a picture of us. Most people side with my mother and you’re going to have to sit through their unsolicited opinions and that’s just the life you’ve chosen. Your dad urging you to slow down or to reconsider, in the grand scheme of things, is a non-issue because I was telling you the same things a week ago. If his bigotry worsens then we can talk, but I really don’t appreciate your flippant attitude and I know it hurts, Kevin. I know better than anyone. But you’re still living under his roof and he’s nice enough to trust you and your boyfriend alone in the same room under his roof.” 

Kevin’s stunned into silence, fidgeting with the end of his tie.

Connor let’s out a shaky breath, having worked himself up. “Okay,” He says after a moment of pause and reflection, “we’re going to have a good day, right? We’ll do the shows and then we’ll have dinner with your family and we’ll cuddle and repeat tomorrow — only we’ll be at Chris’.”

“Right.” Kevin replies.

Connor reaches for his hand, “Let’s pick something up for the party at Mafala’s.”

Kevin nods, biting his lip. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Connor assures him, “I accept your apology.”

Their afternoon and evening shows go off without a hitch. The Price family had already attended two shows the previous weekend, with every intention to attend Sunday’s final performance to support their son and his boyfriend.

“So, Kevin,” Ethan prompts when Kevin and Connor get home for the night — he’s seated back in Jack’s time out spot with Sarah in the seat next to him, “mom tells me you’ve got a hot date and before Jack. Would you imagine?”

Connor offers a small wave in acknowledgment.

“Are you seeing anyone, Connor?” Sarah asks to be polite. 

“Uh,” Kevin speaks up with a glance at his parents in the kitchen, “we’re seeing each other.”

“I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, is all.” Kevin’s mother supplies busy with dinner prep, but Ethan scoffs his confusion.

“Kevin,” he addresses, “you’re— you’re queer? Mom, Dad how could you not tell me?”

“It’s Kevin’s news.” His mother says.

“Not to, like, interrupt or anything but not every gay person claims the word queer. I don’t know about Kevin, but I’m not really all that partial to it coming from people I’m not close to. So I’d rather just stick with gay, please.” Connor says politely as he hangs his coat.

Ethan laughs, turning back to his parents. “I’m sorry, what? You guys are okay with this and with his— his lover living in the same room? They’re 18, Mom. Kevin doesn’t know what he wants. He hasn’t been on mission yet.”

Connor’s touch is gentle as he tries to coax Kevin into standing down. “I’m sure you know that at 18 you’re legally an adult.”

“I know the legalities.” Ethan assures him, as a law student, “But the human brain isn’t fully developed until the age of 25 and Kevin has some time yet. Even Jack has a year.”

“I know what I want.” Kevin assures his oldest brother, “And we’re happy, thank you for your concern.”

“Well, I’m sure Eve was quite content when she bit into that apple, now wasn’t she?” Ethan retorts.

“The fall was instrumental to Heavenly Father’s plan.” Kevin argues.

“Okay, and?” Ethan prompts, “You think you’re somehow instrumental in changing Heavenly Father’s views on homosexuality? You think he foreordained you and Connor here to be the ones that change the Church’s mind on homosexuality? You think you’re some sort of Prophet?”

“Enough, Ethan.” His father barks. “If you and Sarah have a problem with their relationship, you can leave.”

It feels like slow motion, the way in which Kevin finally notices all eyes on he and his oldest brother. Sarah, watching horrified from the counter. His mom, having stopped her dinner preparations. His father, having just put Ethan in his place and expelling any worry Kevin ever had about his acceptance. And Jack who’d walked in at the worst of times, dumbfounded in the hallway as Connor backs Kevin up, quite literally.

“You’re not kicking us out.” Ethan reels, “We can’t drive back to Provo tonight.”

“Then get a hotel.” His father suggests, “Or exercise some tolerance and apologize to Kevin and Connor.”

“Dad,” Ethan pleads, “surely you know this goes against our religion.”

“Kevin has resigned himself from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.” His father informs him, “So what he does isn’t the Church’s concern.” 

It’s then that Kevin notices Connor’s shaky breaths. Gently, he guides Connor back towards their room, nudging past Jack. “If you’ll excuse us.” 

“That was completely unacceptable behavior.” He hears his mother reprimand as she sheds her apron and follows them down the hall.

“That was bad.” Connor breathes, because that’s the simplest way to put it. He looks to Kevin, like he’s shaking himself out of a daze. “I’m sorry I just— that was . . . a lot. And then I was just thinking about everything that happened to me.”

Kevin holds Connor close as he evens himself out, his Mom knocking gently on the door. “I can’t excuse his behavior.” Mrs. Price apologizes, “That was completely uncalled for and I have absolutely no idea how to make it up to you two.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Connor breathes, untangling himself from Kevin as he straightens out his shirt. “He’s entitled to his opinion and there’s nothing any of us can do about it.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not sorry.” She says, moving to squeeze his shoulder. “Dinner will be ready in half an hour. If he decides to stay, you guys are free to eat in the other dining room if you’d be more comfortable.”

“How are you doing?” Connor asks, when Kevin’s mother leaves.

“I just didn’t know he felt that strongly.” Kevin replies, quietly. “And I know he didn’t know about my grand plans to become Prophet, or whatever, but that really stung.”

“Your dad stood up for you.” Connor says, trying to find some light in the situation.

“Yeah, he did.” Kevin nods as Connor preens over him. Fixing his hair and his tie and trying to put him back together again, because Connor’s done this song and dance before.

“I’m sorry.” Connor says, but he can’t fix anything and it’s not his fault. “Those things I said earlier, about unsolicited opinions, I guess it doesn’t get easier. You just get more confident in yourself and it gets old, hearing the same thing over and over again, so it gets easier to ignore from the people you don’t know — as for the people you do know, well, that’ll always be the hardest.”

Kevin nods and they stand there for a while, holding each other. Until they retire to cuddling on the bed, Kevin shedding a couple tears before he’s fallen asleep against Connor’s side.

Mrs. Price comes knocking sometime later, whispering an explanation to Connor so as not to wake Kevin, “Ethan and Sarah decided to get a hotel room for the night. Brady had a talk with him and we think it’s best if both parties have some time to cool off before we reconvene. If you’re hungry, you’re welcome to come eat. Or I’ll put aside some leftovers for you two.”

Connor nods his appreciation, playing loosely with Kevin’s hair as he rests. It had been a long day of singing and dancing and then to come home to have everything blow up was obviously tiring. They never end up eating dinner, instead shifting around when Kevin’s awake enough. Eventually, Jack joins them, turning off the lights and settling in for the night.

The following day, Kevin doesn’t want to talk about it. Not over breakfast, not while his family is at Church, not in the dressing room with the girls prodding for information and not at intermission when he notices Ethan and Sarah have joined his family in the audience.

“If you do not tell me who I need to beat up,” Kimbay says, “the window of opportunity will close and I will go back to making fun of you and Connor instead of feeling bad that you are hurting.”

“I’m fine, really.” Kevin insists.

“He won’t even tell me.” Arnold laments as he fixes Connor’s mic tape while Patrick is busy running around trying to help everyone else.

“It was pretty bad.” Connor sighs.

“We’re best friends.” Arnold points out, “And I know we’re busy because we’re both dating people, but I still care. I care a lot. And I don’t want to see him hurting.”

“Maybe he’ll tell you at the party.” Connor tries to assure him, struggling to not overstep but also wanting to give Arnold the chance to help Kevin.

“Yeah,” Arnold laughs, genuinely, “if someone spikes the punch. Kevin will overthink anything 100 times over before he tells anyone what he’s overthought.”

Connor laughs, “Nobody spikes the punch at cast parties. Those are jock parties. We play rounds of Cards Against Humanity while the Hello, Dolly! musical runs in the background. Popcorn gets thrown, the parents steal the spinach dip, we have to clean up spilled pop, the ice cream melts. Someone inevitably brings their guitar, we sing showtunes as we lay across each others laps. And God forbid the house has a pool. It’s all very routine.”

“I’ve never been to a party.” Arnold confesses, “That wasn’t, like, a birthday party.”

“You’ll have fun.” Connor promises as Zach and Stephen herd everyone up for places.

The cast finds that Nabalungi’s, “Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye!” at the top of ‘So Long Dearie’ hits a little different for their final performance.

“Dolly, you’ll never go away again!” The entire cast finishes out, tearing up as they gather for bows. 

“Kevin, your family is waiting.” Naba says, finding Kevin sniffling in the dressing room as he changes back into his clothes. “Are you sad because of whatever happened yesterday or because the show ending?” She asks, face softening.

“Both?” Kevin guesses.

Naba pulls him in for a hug.

“My brother is homophobic.” He explains, “And he wasn’t very kind to Connor and I yesterday, so I don’t want to see him.”

“Jack?” Naba clarifies, because that isn’t like that brother she knows.

“Ethan.” He corrects, “My oldest brother and his fiancé.”

“Is it because of your faith?” She asks, to which Kevin nods. “Well, they were not accepting of people with my complexion for hundreds of years until they changed their minds. Maybe they will change their minds on love, but maybe it will not happen in your lifetime. Just live your life. He cannot tell you who to love and you should not waste your time caring about what he thinks. If we all did that, every day of our lives, we would be very sad people. Tonight is happy. Tonight is a party. Tonight you retire Barnaby, but you also celebrate his run. Go see your family, Kevin Price. Go see your boyfriend.”

Kevin smiles through his tears, hugging Nabulungi again. “Thank you.” He says, reaching to squeeze her hand before he joins the rest of his cast mates in the school commons.

“You made it through.” His mom grins, pulling him into a hug, “We got you more flowers.”

Kevin can’t bring himself to meet Ethan’s eyes as he accepts hugs from everyone else and a kiss from Connor, who laces their fingers together.

“Look,” Ethan says, but ironically he’s not meeting Kevin’s eyes either, “I don’t agree with it. But congratulations on your run, Kevin. And you too, Connor.”

“Thank you.” Connor says when Kevin fails to bring himself to say anything at all.

“Have fun, tonight.” His mother encourages as she rounds up her family to head out and together Kevin and Connor wave them off.

“No apology.” Kevin scoffs to Connor as Ethan and Sarah take their leave, he’s quick to turn away from the doors so he doesn’t have to watch anyone go.

“He’s not sorry.” Connor shrugs, “Unfortunately. I know it sucks, but I think you need to tell Arnold at some point. He’s worried about you.”

Kevin guesses he’s right and as much as he doesn’t want to talk about it, Arnold deserves to know.

Kevin explains the situation to Arnold in full, pulling him aside while the cast and crew strike the set to keep him informed. 

“Don’t just stand there, Kevin.” Mrs. Brown says, nudging Kevin to help Arnold with the strike.

“Yeah, sorry.” Kevin says, grabbing a hammer to help Arnold pull out nails.

“I’m sorry.” Arnold apologizes, even though Ethan’s opinions aren’t his fault. “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” Kevin sighs, “but it’s only the beginning.”

“Don’t think like that.” Arnold replies, “It’s an inconvenience. It happens. Don’t let it define you and don’t live in fear that it will happen. It’s only the beginning of you let it get you down every time it happens.”

“You sound like Naba.” Kevin says, pointedly.

“Well, we’re dating.” Arnold reminds him with a childish grin. “You’re still going to the cast party, right? You’re not too sad to do that?”

“No, yeah, I’m going.” Kevin fudges, still thinking about Arnold’s words of wisdom. “Connor was thinking we’d spend the night.”

“Cool!” Arnold smiles, “Another sleepover!”

“Yeah.” Kevin laughs, because Arnold’s enthusiasm is infectious. “Though I doubt there will be any Star Wars.”

* * *

 

“You gonna fall asleep again, Kevin?” Elijah teases, good naturedly as he distributes cards to each player.

Alex tsks on the couch across from him as he shuffles through his hand. “Didn’t you hear, Elijah?” He asks, glancing up, “Kevin’s started pitching in for Dunkin’ runs.”

Elijah’s eyes widen as if he’s impressed, as he hands a pile of cards off to Kevin. “Welcome to the world of caffeine.”

It’s silly banter like this that makes Kevin feel like he’s at home. No one’s attacking his character or his beliefs; things are said in jest and when feelings are hurt, apologies are quickly offered.

Chris’ house is fairly big and the basement is accommodating of the cast and crew, but those interested in playing cards have taken — like Connor predicted — to squeezing onto the couches and practically laying across one another as Hello, Dolly! plays quietly in the background.

“Oh, by the way,” Chris says, nestled into the couch next to James, “some of these cards are inside jokes from previous productions. I finally got everyone’s ideas together and made the cards.”

Connor takes his seat next to Kevin, with a plate full of food that had been laid out buffet style upstairs – where some of the more involved theatre parents have congregated.

“I need a hand.” He waves Elijah down, who pretends to make a big deal of having to grab Connor cards.

“Ah,” Elijah warns, quick to pull his hand away, “I’ll trade you for one of those cookies.”

Connor rolls his eyes but makes the trade anyway.

“Can we get going?” Kimbay asks, “Or I will be the one sleeping.” 

“Alright, alright.” Elijah surrenders, reaching for a black card. He’s dramatic in his preparation to read the card and Connor tosses a stray piece of popcorn in his direction. “In a world ravaged by blank,” He announces, glaring at Connor, “our only solace is blank. 2 cards. Go.” 

“Bad card.” Someone boos as Elijah starts gathering pairs and delving out cards to replace the ones played.

“Wait!” Alex suddenly announces before Elijah can read the pairs out loud. “How many rounds to win?”

Elijah surveys the group, “Is five too many?”

“Five is fine.” Asmeret assures him, “Read the cards.”

Ultimately, Elijah picks: “In a world ravaged by theatre kids without rights, our only solace is Connor’s stoned broadway philosophy.”

“Who writes these cards.” Elijah snickers, giving Steve the win.

“Of course he had that card.” Connor says bitterly, for Kevin’s ears only. Kevin glances at him, daring to steal food from his plate.

“I don’t have the context.” He confesses, reaching to squeeze Connor’s knee as Steve reads the next card.

Connor passes his submission to Kevin to pass on down to Steve before he explains. “There were a couple times,” he whispers, “when Steve and I were . . . where I was just completely gone and going on tangents that I guess were very memorable for everyone else. Or funny enough to get their own card, I suppose.”

Sadaka wins the next round. Then Zach. Then Stephen. And it’s increasingly clear that five cardsis maybe too many for a group so large, especiallywhen it takes so long for the cards to get to the right person.

The movie’s played itself out by the time Kevin gets his own card and Connor won’t say it outright, but he’s bitter that he’s behind. Chris, James, Arnold and Naba each have their own cards as well and Connor’s competitive.

When Kevin reaches to take food from Connor’s plate, his hand is batted away. Kevin looks to him, eyebrows furrowed.

“What did I do?” Kevin frowns.

“Just pass this up.” Connor waves him off, handing off his card to Kevin to turn in for the round.

Eventually, people drop out in favor of other things. Whether they’re bitter and card-less like Connor or not getting anywhere with the one card they’ve won. Until the only people standing are James, Chris, Arnold, Naba, Kimbay, Elijah, Connor and Kevin. 

The dwindling group erupts into cheers when Connor collects his first card.

“Now can I eat that Oreo?” Kevin asks innocently, having stared at the untouched food on Connor’s plate for the past couple rounds.

Connor rolls his eyes, handing the plate off to his boyfriend with a kiss and an exasperated, “Yes.”

“How am I maintaining my relationship status?” Connor reads the next black card, waiting to collect the remaining white cards.

He begins reading off the white cards, face falling at: “Method acting.”

“Who submitted this one?” He asks, unimpressed.

“Read the other ones first.” Elijah urges, so Connor obliges only to circle back to method acting.

“That was me.” Kevin says, shyly.

“You’re a dick.” Connor says with a laugh, tossing the black card to his boyfriend.

“I thought the point of the game was to pick your funniest card.” Kevin shrugs, reaching for a black card. “The blank mostly come out at night. Mostly.” 

He reads the collected cards over in his head before he’s handing them off to Connor and shoving his face full of food. “I can’t say that out loud.”

“But you can drink coffee.” Elijah teases, Connor talking over him to read the white cards. Kevin pulls the one he finds funniest and hands the black card off to Connor who’s quickly gaining on everyone now that they’ve lost players.

“I am not saying this to be rude,” Kimbay prefaces, “but do you know what all of these cards mean?”

“Not at all.” Kevin laughs, “I’m trying my best.”

“That’s all we ask.” Connor replies, leaning to kiss him; finally content with his odds of winning.

The game comes to teeter between Chris and Connor, both sitting a couple anxious rounds with four cards each until Chris pulls the win.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Connor threatens, discarding his cards onto the coffee table.

“Murder is illegal.” Kimbay reminds him, throwing his own words in his face.

“Connor, your boyfriend is going to leave you for Chris’ dog.” Alex notes, leaning over the couch.

Kevin glances up, having disregarded the squabbling to pet Chris’ German Shepard after the game was won. “What am I doing?” He asks, obliviously.

“Leaving Connor for Hershey.” Chris elaborates, unhelpfully for Kevin who’s even more confused as Hershey nudges him to keep petting her. “Never mind, it was a joke.” Chris waves his hand.

Mrs. Thomas ventures into the basement just as Chris has moved to put away the card game. “Chris do you know who all is planning to stay the night?” She inquires, surveying the damage — which, surprisingly there is very little out of place, save a couple couch cushions or throw blankets and a couple stray plates and cups. “I know a couple people already left.”

Chris rattles off an uncertain list of names, but Kevin and Connor have committed for sure.

“It’s nice to see you again, Connor.” Mrs. Thomas smiles, but Kevin can sense a lingering, unaddressed sadness. 

“It’s nice to see you too.” He smiles, before she’s heading back upstairs.

“I’m glad it’s over, but I’m sad to see it go.” James confesses after they sit in a lingering silence for a moment or two.

“That’s what we say about every show.” Chris reminds him.

“Yeah, but this one was different.” James replies, “A lot of emotions at play.”

“Remember when that girl took an edible right before final dress.” Connor laughs, reminiscing. 

“When was that?” Kimbay thinks back, “Sophomore year? All I know is, I will never understand you white people.”

“She claimed it was for anxiety.” Connor fills Kevin in, “But we brought it to Mrs. Brown’s attention as soon as we all found out and we had to throw an understudy on with almost no notice.” 

“Didn’t you get high?” Kevin asks, confusedly.

And he can tell it’s a topic Connor would rather avoid, but he’s nice enough to share anyway.

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs, “but there was a time and a place and final dress was not the time or place.”

“No, Connor was more of a during lunch or after rehearsal smoker.” Chris adds, “Back when we had the Black Box theatre, before the new principal found it completely unnecessary and it became a prop room.”

“Let’s move on?” Connor asks, politely, fidgeting as he leans against Kevin. “I’m not really proud of the person I was with Steve.”

Steve had been one of the ones, as Mrs. Thomas had said, to leave early. 

“We love you, Connor.” Chris reminds him and the sentiment is echoed throughout the gathering as Kevin squeezes his hand and presses a kiss to his temple.

Kevin finds that the comfortable silences start to last longer. A new movie is started and the lights are turned off and suddenly the attention is devoted to that until Kevin finds himself slipping; after a long day of singing and dancing and striking the set, and just overall emotions.

Kevin doesn’t want to be the first to fall asleep, no matter how tired he is because he doesn’t want to be the butt of that joke any longer. So he hangs on the best he can until he notices Elijah passed out across the way. He wrinkles his nose when he notices Naba and Arnold making out, wondering if that’s what he and Connor look like to everyone else.

“I think I’m gonna go to sleep,” Connor whispers, readjusting himself to a more comfortable position, “Oh— are you already?”

“No.” Kevin assures him, peeking an eye open.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Connor apologizes, leaning up to kiss him.

“You didn’t.” Kevin promises in a murmur, unable to keep his eyes open.

“Mhmm.” Connor whispers, unconvinced. “‘Night Kevin, love you.”

“Love you.” Kevin replies, both of them having decided after the first slip to keep it going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re getting close to the end, but i have ideas!! Feel free to leave your own in the comments. 
> 
> I also changed my username, sorry if that inconvenienced you.
> 
> Much love! <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this update took forever. 
> 
> Things get kinda NSFW.

In the weeks following the show’s end, Connor and Nabulungi go back to work with Mafala.    
  
Reason would lead anyone to believe that in result, Kevin and Arnold would have more time on their hands to hang out; but most days after school they can be found studying at the counter that backs up to the bakery’s front window. What they call studying, Mafala calls distracting but he’s taken a liking to both boys and ultimately sees no reason to kick them out.    
  
Mafala likes to joke that Kevin gives Connor tunnel vision, because whenever Kevin walks through the door Connor abandons the cash register in favor of cleaning the tables. Notably, he cleans the spot next to Kevin’s workspace for entirely too long as they flirt with one another.   
  
“Connor,” he reprimands one day, “keep cleaning that same spot and you will take the finish off my counter.”    
  
Deep in conversation, Connor doesn’t immediately register what Mafala’s said.    
  
“Con,” Kevin laughs, pencil hovering over his paper for as long as Connor’s been scrubbing at an imaginary stain, “go back to work.”    
  
Connor groans exaggeratedly as he tosses the hand towel onto his shoulder.    
  
“They are still honeymooning, Baba.” Nabulungi laughs from behind the counter as Connor sets his free hand on the side of Kevin’s face to collect a kiss.   
  
“I can start counting your flirting time as your break time.” Mafala proposes in jest as Connor rejoins him behind the display counter.    
  
“I can’t help that I get lost in his eyes.” Connor explains, hanging up the towel and tucking away the table cleanser in one of the supply cabinets.   
  
“Then buy a map.” Mafala jokes, which earns a laugh from Connor who goes to wash his hands in the back.    
  
Customers shuffle in and out of the bakery and Kevin gets some of his homework done in the meantime.    
  
“Kevin?” Connor beckons when business slows, and Kevin abandons his homework in favor of joining Connor at the display case, “Do you want anything to eat?”    
  
“I don’t need anything.” He assures Connor, who’s prepping to go on break.    
  
“I’ll get you a cookie.” Connor waves a dismissive hand, grabbing Kevin a chocolate chip cookie from the display and a little something for himself. He punches his employee discount into the cash register and pays the drawer before he’s able to join Kevin on the floor, again.    
  
“It looks better.” Connor muses as they resume their seats as the window counter, he’s playing with the collar of Kevin’s shirt.    
  
Kevin swats his hand away, straightening his collar.    
  
“What looks better?” Arnold pries, without the intent to be nosy. It’s Arnold’s typical fashion to want to be included, especially in matters concerning his best friends and Connor — as an extent of Kevin — has now joined the ranks. Their friend group isn’t so small anymore.    
  
“His hickey.” Connor grins, proud of himself even if Kevin’s face reddens beside him. “Don’t be embarrassed.” He encourages, rubbing his hand up Kevin’s arm in reassurance.    
  
The truth is, Kevin doesn’t know how to feel about it. The Church taught him he should feel dirty and sinful and without the Church he’s left to Connor’s direction — and Connor’s proud in a way that isn’t yet comfortable for Kevin.    
  
To Kevin, the hickey should remain between them. It’s their romance and they can tell everyone that they love each other in a million different ways; but the hickey is private. It is dirty — and maybe not in the connotation the Church implies, but Kevin feels it represents a gentle deflowering and he’s happy to take that path with Connor he just . . . doesn’t want the world to know quite yet. Kevin doesn’t need to scream their love from the rooftops to know it exists.    
  
Connor let’s Kevin come into his own emotions and opinions — and if Kevin wants to cover it up, he’ll stop poking and prodding the proverbial bear.    
  
“I’m not embarrassed.” Kevin assures him, worried  Connor will mistake his hesitance for disinterest. “I’m just . . . figuring it out.”    
  
“I know you are.” Connor smiles gently as he takes Kevin’s chin in hand and leans in to kiss him.   
  
Nabalungi’s break follows. Before she joins Arnold at the counter, she moves to draw the blinds. “Get a room, you two.” She comments, circling around them to take up the seat next to Arnold.    
  
Connor pulls away with an exaggerated eye roll that makes Kevin laugh. They’re getting more comfortable with each other. Moving away from stolen, quick kisses and into longer “make-outs” and exploration as evidenced by the hickey.    
  
“How much longer do you have?” Kevin asks, turning back to the cookie Connor had bought him.    
  
Connor briefly checks the time on his phone. “About an hour. Did you have a lot of homework?”    
  
“The usual.” Kevin shrugs, “I’m just making some quick notes for you for Chemistry.”    
  
Connor grins, surging forward to press his lips to Kevin in thanks. “Nabulungi,” he declares, “my boyfriend is better than yours.”    
  
“My boyfriend writes me stories.” Naba counters.   
  
“What if?” Arnold proposes, “Your boyfriends are equally amazing, just in different ways.”   
  
Kevin points at Arnold with a look at Connor to say he’s right.    
  
“Fine.” Connor surrenders, lowering his voice so only Kevin can hear, “I still think you’re the best.”    
  
Teasingly, Kevin pushes Connor back into his seat. And then after a beat, he’s sure to add, “I know I am.”   
  
Connor laughs and moves to steal a small piece of Kevin’s cookie in exchange for a piece of his brownie.    
  
The couple’s part ways at closing, Mafala staying afterwards to prepare some food for the following day.    
  
“I’ll have to make you something sometime.” Connor muses, later that night as Kevin changes into his pajama’s. Gently, he grabs Kevin by the hips, sidling up behind him as he presses his lips to the bare skin of Kevin’s shoulder.    
  
“Oh yeah?” Kevin asks as he tugs his shirt on over his head. “What’re you gonna make me?”   
  
“What do you want?” Connor asks as Kevin turns around.    
  
“What do you make best?” Kevin counters, reaching to turn the light off before they retire to the bed. Jack’s away for the night so they can get away with sleeping next to one another, not that he would ever rat them out, but better safe than sorry.    
  
It’s less than smooth the way Connor stumbles in the dark, accidentally pulling Kevin down with him onto the bed, but they laugh anyway as they readjust themselves to a more comfortable position. “I can make cookies and brownies — and Mandazi, if you ask nicely.”    
  
“I think you mean you can make Mandazi if you ask nicely for help from Naba or Mafala.” Kevin teases and Connor’s quick to nip playfully at the already tender skin on Kevin’s collar.    
  
Kevin winces in response, playfully wrestling Connor off of him and there’s a couple “ow’s” thrown into the mix of laughter as limbs are knocked against one another in an attempt to retain that comfortable position they’d lost — both of them nearly falling off the bed.    
  
“You make me want to do things to you.” Connor confesses, raw and vulnerable as he hovers over Kevin.    
  
“I know.” Kevin breathes, submitting to the open communication. And Connor knows that it’s not that Kevin doesn’t want to further things, it’s just that these things take time and patience.    
  
Mostly, they’re fumbling in the dark, but there’s just enough light coming in through the window that their eyes have adjusted to the change.    
  
So, Connor dips his toes in the water. He takes his lips to the exposed skin of Kevin’s neck just as he had the day before and Kevin threads his fingers through Connor’s hair. Adventuring onward, Connor slips his hand under Kevin’s shirt and is proud of the progress they’ve made in doing more than holding hands or denying feelings.    
  
“Is this okay?” He’s sure to clarify with Kevin every time he tries something that’s new to him.    
  
Kevin will be the first to admit he feels a bit hopeless, because he’s not quite sure how to reciprocate the things Connor is making him feel. On the other hand, Connor isn’t asking him too.    
  
Connor lowers his hand to fondle Kevin through the fabric of his pajama pants, to which Kevin responds by arching his back and breathing out a string of, “Okayokayokay.”   
  
“Is that stop?” Connor clarifies, eyebrows drawn in worry that he’s gone too far as he pulls his hand away, “Or are you saying that what I’m doing is okay?”    
  
“I don’t know.” Kevin confesses.   
  
“That’s okay.” Connor assures him, reverting back to what’s familiar as he cups Kevin’s face for a kiss.    
  
“I feel like I’m not doing anything.” He confesses, “I’m just laying here and, like, holding you.”    
  
“You’re responding to what I’m doing.” Connor assures him, “If you think you’re supposed to be doing something to me other than what you’ve been doing, you’re doing fine. Right now it’s about getting you comfortable.”    
  
“I feel so alien.” Kevin whines.    
  
“Everyone does the first couple times.” Connor responds, trying to kiss away his anxieties. “Why don’t we stop for tonight?” He proposes, hands cupping Kevin’s face.    
  
“I’m sorry.” Kevin sighs.   
  
“There’s no rush and there’s no need to apologize, Kev.” Connor replies, settling into Kevin’s side. “The right moment will find us.”    
  
“Will it?” Kevin dares to challenge, because he feels like the only thing holding them back.   
  
“It will.” Connor assures him, with an arm thrown over Kevin’s chest to keep him close. He uses his thumb to rub small, gentle circles into Kevin’s skin. “I love you.”    
  
“I love you too.” Kevin replies and he falls asleep to Connor’s endearing and touchy habits, leaving Connor awake with his thoughts — none of which blame Kevin for his late blooming. He’s almost glad that Kevin takes things slow.

* * *

Kevin still eats his lunch with Mrs. Brown. He can’t break every tradition and besides, Connor isn’t even in his lunch hour.    
  
He does most of his homework at Mafala’s now, but sitting in Mrs. Brown’s room gives him a bit of a break from the constant hustle and bustle of his life. There’s no family, there’s no real expectation and as much as he loves Connor, there’s no boyfriend.    
  
Kevin’s scrolling loosely through a game on his phone that Arnold and Connor keep nudging him to play when there’s a knock at the door.    
  
Mrs. Brown, who’s been balancing grading papers and eating lunch, stands to answer the door and Kevin doesn’t bat an eyelash — doesn’t think anything of it and doesn’t bother to look up.   
  
“Kevin,” Connor laughs, “are you busy?”    
  
Kevin glances up, brows furrowed as he responds with his gut response of “No?” and then seconds later with a, “What are you doing?”    
  
“Kevin,” Connor grins and he’s holding flowers and a sign, “will you go to Prom with me?”    
  
Kevin stutters, long limbs caught in the desk he’s trying to escape from. “Yes,” he nods vigorously pulling Connor in for a hug, “yeah, I’ll go to Prom with you.”    
  
Connor laughs as he leans to kiss him. “Did you read the poster?” He asks as Kevin notices Arnold, Naba and Chris standing behind him, while Naba films.    
  
Kevin pulls away to read the poster again, the first time having not registered as he had taken in Connor’s question. “It only takes a moment for our eyes to meet and then . . . PROM?” He reads out loud with a laugh and he’s definitely not tearing up.    
  
“Oh, Kevin.” Connor laughs, tears of his own forming as he ditches the poster and the flowers on one of the desks to pull Kevin in for a hug. He wipes furiously under his eyes. “You’re making me cry.”    
  
Kevin laughs again and they’re both giggling and crying as they hold one another.    
  
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Arnold chants in the background and they do.    
  
“I have a plan to win prom court.” Connor grins mischievously.   
  
“Oh no you do not.” Naba replies as she cuts her filming.    
  
“I hate to interrupt — and with bad news, at that.” Mrs. Brown speaks up, “But if Kevin and Connor want any hope of winning prom court it’s a problem we’re going to have to address now.”   
  
“What do you mean?” Chris asks.   
  
“Right now the rules state that 3 boys and 3 girls must be elected to court.” She explains, “Traditionally they’re couples, but if Kevin and Connor are elected that’s 2/3 boys and they won’t be able to win together.”    
  
“That’s not fair.” Arnold points out.    
  
“We live in Utah,” Connor sighs, not particularly surprised, “of course they’re less than accommodating.”    
  
“But,” Mrs. Brown smiles, “Kevin is the President of Student Council. We can write up a proposal to show administration.”   
  
“Everyone in theatre would sign a petition.” Nabulungi says.   
  
“I think if we start now, we can win.” Mrs. Brown assures them.    
  
“Can you draft something then, Mr. President.” Connor smiles, nudging Kevin.    
  
“Yeah.” Kevin breathes, taking in a lot of information all at once. He lets out a small laugh, to Connor’s confusion.    
  
“What’s so funny?” Connor smiles, leaning into him.    
  
“Nothing.” Kevin chuckles, “I’m just thinking about what Ethan said. I might not be the Church’s gay Prophet, but I can do good here.”   
  
“Let’s win, Kev.” Connor says with a giddy grin as he squeezes Kevin’s arm in his bustling excitement.    
  
So, Kevin drafts a proposal and he collects signatures to reinforce his idea. To his surprise, administration rules in his favor. Granted, it takes a couple weeks to hear back, but by the time Prom Court nominations are held, Kevin and Connor make it onto the ballot, together — as a couple.    
  
Kevin and Connor prepare matching suits and organize photo sessions with the group they’ve chosen to sit with, all in preparation for their first Prom.

* * *

“Connor?” Mrs. Price calls, stepping onto the front porch. She uses her hand to block out the glaring sun, “Can you tell Kevin to get out of the car? We have family pictures to take yet.”    
  
Connor nods and instead of rounding to the passenger side, he knocks on the driver side window.    
  
“We’re going to be late.” Kevin huffs knowingly, and Connor leans in through the window to kiss him.    
  
“We have loads of time.” Connor points out, glancing at the clock on the dash.    
  
“On time is late.” Kevin reminds him, unbuckling his seat belt and turning the car off as Connor tugs the car door open so he can step out.    
  
“Were you born premature, is that why you’re like this?” Connor teases, tugging him back towards the house.    
  
“That might explain it.” Kevin briefly ponders, as they cross the threshold into chaos.    
  
“Hannah, you look fine.” His mother is reassuring his sister as Jack helps Colin fix the collar of his shirt, “You’re not the one going to Prom. I just want one nice picture to hang on the wall.”   
  
“Who’s taking the picture?” Kevin asks, fidgeting with his wristwatch next to Connor.    
  
Jack looks up from where he’s knelt on the floor in front of their youngest brother, “The tripod and the timer. I know you aren’t exactly hip with technology, but—“   
  
“Jack, cut you brother a break.” His father scolds.    
  
“Hey, you guys made fun of me when I went to Prom. It’s only fair.” Jack replies.   
  
“Well that’s because you chose to go with Leslie Davis.” Kevin jives, “She was a special girl.”   
  
“Okay, in my defense.” Jack says to Connor, “I didn’t know she would fall down the stairs at Prom.”    
  
“Oh my gosh.” Connor says, biting back laughter.    
  
“She also fell in a manhole the first day of college and went to class anyway.” Kevin reminds him.    
  
“So she had some issues. . .” Jack shrugs, “with staying upright, but she was a very nice girl.”    
  
“What happened to Leslie, Jack?” His mother asks.    
  
“She fell.” Kevin supplies, catching the tail end of a glare from his brother.    
  
“I don’t know, I think she went to school for art or something.” He shrugs, doing his own tie. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”   
  
“She probably graduated.” His father hums, “You went on Mission. All the girls I went to school with who went to BYU were done with their fourth year of college by my Sophomore year.”    
  
“Not that he was looking at anyone else.” His mother comments.    
  
“How could I? With you waiting at home for me?” Mr. Price asks and collectively the Price kids pretend to gag.    
  
“What happened to Danielle?” Kevin inquires, turning the focus back to Jack’s love life.    
  
“Look, I’m not making fun of your boyfriend.” Jack says, obviously not into joking about his past girlfriends any longer.    
  
“No one can make fun of Connor.” Colin pipes up protectively.    
  
“Yeah, what he said.” Kevin grins as Connor laughs beside him.    
  
“I think we’re ready.” Mrs. Price says, herding everyone outside.    
  
Jack’s camera setup takes a matter of seconds and then they’re all huddled by the trees in the front yard with Kevin and Connor in the foreground as the camera clicks.   
  
“Have fun and be safe.” His mother encourages, pressing a kiss to both of their cheeks, “And call if you need anything.”    
  
“Mom.” Kevin groans.    
  
“Where are you guys taking pictures?” Jack asks as he puts away his camera, “The Cunningham’s?”   
  
Kevin nods in response, starting his car. “I’ll meet you guys over there, then.” His brother promises and Kevin’s just glad to finally be off.

* * *

James ends up driving the group to the venue in his SUV, Chris fielding song requests from his spot in the passenger seat after Jack has taken the group photos and waved them on their way.    
  
“Who do you think is going to win Prom Court?” Nabulungi inquires.    
  
“I swear to God,” Connor groans, “if it’s Ashley and Brad, I’ll lose it.”   
  
“They’re popular and white and straight.” James points out, bringing up the unfortunate truth.    
  
“Yeah, well, my boyfriend is President of the Student Body.” Connor replies getting fired up, hand on Kevin’s knee, “And I’ve been every girl’s gay best friend since their mother’s forced them into ballet classes.”   
  
“I think Nabulungi and Arnold have a chance as the humanitarian couple.” Chris pipes up, with his opinion.    
  
“You think?” Nabulungi asks, reaching forward to flick him in the back of the head, “I know we have a chance.”    
  
Chris whines in response to her so-called abuse, looking to James who responds, “I’m glad we aren’t on the ballot, they’re a bunch of drama queens.“   
  
“No wig snatching tonight, ladies.” Chris announces, nursing his wounds, “Unless it’s Ashley and Brad then fuck them.”    
  
“Have you been pregaming?” Connor teases, to which Chris returns a scandalized look.    
  
“Kevin and Arnold have been quiet.” James comments, looking in the rearview, “Who do you think will win?”    
  
Kevin’s never really thought about it, focused more on getting himself and Connor on the ballot as an option. “I guess I don’t really care.” Kevin shrugs.    
  
“Wrong answer.” Connor replies.    
  
“No, wait.” Kevin reiterates, “I’ll be proud if either of us win, and if we don’t win, well, I’m happy that we were in the running at the very least. But you’re right, if it’s Ashley and Brad, eff them.”    
  
“I feel the same way.” Arnold seconds, “I want to see everyone succeed. We got this far.”    
  
“Humanitarian couple.” Chris evidences, as if to prove his point.    
  
They arrive at the venue and are checked in and seated as a group, waiters drop off baskets of bread and glasses of water as they wait for everyone to arrive. The conversation is livelier than the music that plays idly in the background and the lighting is bright, the evening sun still streaming in from outside.    
  
“Stop staring at Ashley and Brad like you can laser their brains out.” Chris scolds Connor from across the table.    
  
“I’m just trying to see the appeal.” Connor defends himself, grabbing a piece of bread.    
  
Ultimately, Kevin finds the dinner to be subpar. The meat is chewy and nothing is seasoned. The soup and the bread really made the whole meal and even the salad dressing was watery, but desserts are promised after the crowning and they still have time yet.    
  
“Okay, while they play whatever this is, we need to get a picture in the photo booth.” Connor shouts over the music as the lights go down and their peers crowd the floor.    
  
“I think it’s Mo Bamba.” Arnold supplies, not that the revelation compels anyone to want to dance.    
  
“Don’t be shy.” Connor says, pulling everyone into the photo booth, “We’ll have to do it a couple times so everyone gets a strip.”   
  
They pull a variety of poses, from funny faces to recreating famous photos. Even throwing in a kiss or two. Of which, Kevin will gladly add to the wall where his theatre photo and museum date photo are proudly on display.    
  
As the dancers of the group, Chris and Connor spend a lot of time on the floor, the rest of the group sitting at the table and talking or joining in to jump around with everyone else. Crowds aren’t really Kevin’s happy place and he’s even less enticed to bounce in a circle with everyone else.    
  
But he joins in the routine dances. Cha-Cha Slide. Cupid Shuffle. And he screams the words to Don’t Stop Believing with everyone else.    
  
“The time has come to crown your Prom Court Royalty!” The DJ announces and Connor and Kevin are ushered into the hallway outside the venue so they can walk in when their names are called.    
  
“First we have Bradley Young and Ashley Smith! Followed by Connor McKinley and Kevin Price! And lastly, Nabulungi Hatimbi and Arnold Cunningham!” The cheering is loud and easily pinpointed to the bigger fan base of theatre kids.    
  
“Your Prom Court Royalty is . . .” There’s a hold for applause as the envelope is ripped open, Connor squeezing Kevin’s hand and offering his hand out to Nabulungi who takes it, creating a link between them. “Connor McKinley and Kevin Price!”    
  
Connor ropes Kevin into a kiss before they’re crowned and Arnold and Naba are sure to give them a hug, the earlier conversation in jest and they couldn’t be more proud.    
  
“Now,” The DJ announces, “a slow dance for our newly crowned Kings.”    
  
“Now you have something to hold over Ethan.” Connor grins, pulling Kevin close. There’s no question that he’s leading the dance.    
  
“He was Prom King.” Kevin replies, “And so was Jack.”    
  
“Royalty is in your blood and you didn’t tell me?”  Connor teases, “But I meant that you really took one giant leap for mankind, you know? You got us on the ballot and we won. Maybe it’s not religious, but it’s a start, Kev.”    
  
Kevin supposes he’s right. He usually is. 

* * *

The after party is held at the house of a kid Kevin loosely knows. After a trip to the bathroom, he loses Connor and is quickly roped into a series of congratulations for his win.    
  
“Kevin?” Connor smiles, gently resting his hand on  his boyfriend’s forearm as he rejoins his side, “Sorry to interrupt, I was wondering if you could show me where the bathroom is?”   
  
Halting his conversation, Kevin glances at Connor. “Second hallway on the left.” He explains, with a vague point in the right direction.   
  
But Connor waits patiently to be physically guided in the right direction, hanging off Kevin in the meantime as he discusses whatever it had been that he’d interrupted.    
  
“If you’ll excuse us.” Kevin says after a break in the conversation, lacing his fingers with Connor’s to guide him in the right direction.    
  
“Thank you.” Connor grins, like a kid who’s just got his way and as soon as they start down the empty hallway, he’s attacking Kevin with hungry kisses, fumbling with the door handle behind him.    
  
“That’s a closet.” Kevin breathes as Connor presses himself as close as he possibly can to Kevin.    
  
He falls back, trying the next door.    
  
“Office.” Kevin supplies helpfully, “Bathroom.”   
  
“I thought you had to go?” He says, eyebrows drawn in confusion when Connor shuts the door and ventures onto the next.    
  
“I had to get you away from that conversation.” Connor explains, roughly tugging Kevin into the guest bedroom he’d been searching for, closing the door behind them, “So I could do this.”    
  
Fumbling in the faint light, he pushes Kevin back onto the bed, straddling his lap to continue their earlier making out.    
  
One by one, articles of clothing are strewn across the bed and carelessly tossed onto the floor. In the moment everything seems more passionate, more intense and Kevin’s never felt more ready.    
  
“Is this okay?” Connor keeps asking, because he’s sweet and careful and he genuinely worries about Kevin’s comfort.    
  
“It’s okay.” Kevin confirms, every time he’s asked, venturing farther than they have before. With his pants around his ankles, Kevin feels exposed but not in the least bit self conscious and Connor’s heavy with the compliments and the kissing and it really feels like things are falling into all the right places.    
  
His body shivers with a pent up nervousness and his mind, not well equipped for multitasking, keeps switching back and forth between pleasure and panic — feeding into the fear that he’s under performing even with Connor’s constant reassurance.    
  
There’s an anxiety that’s building in his stomach, twisting itself into knots, but there’s also this feeling he’s never felt before, somewhat lower than the anxiety that feels just as explosive. They get harder to distinguish, making him just as spasmodic and it starts to feel like he can hear his heart beating in his ears.    
  
“Kevin?” Connor pulls away a short while later and there’s something tentative about his voice that worries Kevin. “Did you just—?”   
  
He leaves the question hanging in the air, but just as soon as he sees the panic flash across Kevin’s face he’s roping him into a gentle embrace and peppering his face with reassuring kisses. “Hey, it happens.” He coos, “It’s your first time. It’s normal to be anxious.”   
  
He brushes his fingers through Kevin’s hair, cupping his face in his hands. “I would have liked more warning,” he smiles, trying to lighten the mood, “but we’ll figure it out.”    
  
Kevin hears everything he’s saying, but he can’t help the embarrassment that splotches in red patches across his skin or his desperate scramble to redress himself. He’s hellbent on escaping the situation — escaping the room.    
  
“Kevin—“ Connor frowns.    
  
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He decides, growing frustrated with his shaky hands and the buttons on his shirt, but Connor’s on cleanup duty, already gently pushing Kevin’s hands aside to do the buttons up for him.    
  
“I love you.” Connor assures him, because he’s seasoned and unphased and he’s perfect and Kevin bets this has never happened to him.    
  
“I love you too.” He whines because he’d feel worse if he didn’t say it back, but he’s desperate to get to a bigger room with more air, albeit more eyes. He can’t help but feel that the only person looking at him now is disappointed in his performance and he’s waiting for the laughter. Or for him to declare to everyone exactly how he’s failed him.    
  
“Kevin, you’re having a panic attack.” Connor says, tugging on his own discarded clothes in an attempt to make Kevin feel better before he’s back at his side, rubbing circles into his back. “Just put your head between your knees and focus on your breathing, there you go.”   
  
Kevin finds himself calming down, coming down from his panic and anxiety, but still overthinking the events as he’s so prone to doing. “Don’t tell anyone.” He pleads, clinging to Connor.    
  
“Nobody needs to know, Kev.” Connor says soothingly, doing all he can to calm Kevin down and make him feel safe and loved. “I know this probably doesn’t make you feel better, but in the grand scheme of things, premature ejaculation is totally normal for someone in your shoes. You’re new to all this, Kev and it’s okay. It’s okay for you to be embarrassed or anxious, but if you think I’m mad or upset I’m not.”    
  
“I came in your mouth.” Kevin breathes out hesitantly, like the words are somehow dirtier than the action.    
  
“That’s kind of the point.” Connor replies and Kevin looks on, horrified. “Nobody gets dicked down right away, Kev and anal really isn’t for everyone it takes a lot of prep work.”    
  
“What do you mean?” Kevin asks, hours of hesitant research in his spare moments failing him as Connor blindsides him. Nobody gets ‘dicked down right away?’ Isn’t that what sex is? Isn’t sex penetration? How could the internet steer him in such a wrong direction?    
  
“Porn can be misleading.” Connor explains, “It’s not an accurate representation of real life at all, it lacks the emotional connection.”    
  
“I didn’t watch porn.” Kevin says, miserably.    
  
Connor frowns, pulling Kevin close. “Did this ruin your night?”   
  
“No.” Kevin confesses, “Maybe. I don’t know.”   
  
“It doesn’t have to.” Connor replies and Kevin knows that. A therapist had once told him that life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react, back when Kevin has been in therapy for his overthinking. “Can I get you a drink?”    
  
“Like an alcoholic one?” Kevin asks.   
  
“Is that what you want?” Connor replies and Kevin debates it. It’d be a big rule break, in the sense that underage drinking also breaks the law, but it’s not like the other partygoers aren’t doing the same thing and Kevin doesn’t plan to drive.    
  
Weakly, he nods and Connor stands. “Do you want to stay here?”   
  
Kevin looks up, quick to wipe under his eyes in the event of shed tears. “No, I’ll go with you.”   
  
“It wasn’t bad.” Connor promises again as he pulls open the door. “Are you feeling okay? Tired?”   
  
“Maybe if I wasn’t such a mess.” Kevin sighs, following after Connor like a scolded puppy no matter how many times Connor tries to reassure him.    
  
Connor pours him a drink once they push past the crowds to the kitchen. He holds the solo cup out to Kevin, but before he can take it, Connor pulls away slightly. “You know I’d never make fun of you behind your back, right? It’s important to me that you know that.” He explains, “I’d only tease you to your face and even then I’d want you to tell me if I’ve gone too far.”    
  
Kevin nods, because after all he trusts Connor with his life. Even if things didn’t pan out the way he thought they would tonight, even if things took an unforeseen turn, he knows that the light in which he holds himself is far more negative than any expectation Connor’s ever held him too — and frankly, Connor doesn’t really hold him to anything other than being a faithful boyfriend and Kevin has that down pat.    
  
Connor relinquishes the glass and Kevin finds that alcohol doesn’t taste nearly as bad as it had always been made out to taste or maybe it’s the masking of the fruity flavors that does the trick.    
  
“Careful.” Connor warns, but he’s supportive of Kevin trying new things. From his own personal experience, it was almost liberating to break the Church’s rules, though admittedly he had acted out of spite and revenge.    
  
Watching Kevin, he’s startled when Chris appears at his side, giddily squeezing his arm. “Did you guys do it?” He inquires, lacking subtlety and smelling of the same boozey punch Connor had just poured for Kevin.    
  
“Yeah.” Connor answers and he leaves it at that for Kevin’s sake, even if his boyfriends busy staring off into the throngs of people mingling in the weird blue light setup that makes the afterparty seem more akin to a nightclub than a classmate’s house.    
  
“Well?” Chris pushes for details as James’ joins them.    
  
“It was good, I don’t know what else you want me to say.” Connor replies, saved by the bell — or rather the boyfriend.    
  
“I think we should market boyfriend leashes to Shark Tank.” James jokes and Connor knows that he’s sober, an unfortunate precaution as a result of his family history — and more than that, he can tell he’s had to use the makeup Connor lent him. The beginnings of another black eye frame the left side of his face and whatever makeup he’s used, he’s sweat off over the course of the night.    
  
Connor holds up the hand he’s threaded through Kevin’s fingers, holding on like a kid with a balloon, despite the fact that Kevin’s not paying attention. “I think that borders on bondage and domination.” He jokes as he watches James follow his lead and intertwine his fingers with Chris’.   
  
The group falls into a comfortable silence, following Kevin’s lead and watching the crowd of people they mostly know, this party much different than the comfort and the closeness of theatre parties.    
  
“What’re you thinking about?” Connor asks, interrupting Kevin’s pensive and intrusive thoughts.    
  
“Just trying to decide if I’ll regret this tomorrow.” Kevin replies, leaning into Connor as he glances down at his empty cup.    
  
“Let’s not think that far ahead.” Connor coaxes, running his hand up and down Kevin’s arm. He reaches to finagle the cup out of his hand, tossing it into the trash can. “Why don’t we go dance?” He proposes to the group.    
  
“I cannot dance.” Kevin asserts, shaking his head.   
  
“Kevin Price, I did not spend my Tuesday’s and Thursday’s teaching you how to dance just to hear you say that.” Connor replies, feigning offense.    
  
“Didn’t we do enough dancing at Prom, how are any of those people still going?” Chris whines.    
  
“What if we find Naba and Arnold and get out of here?” James proposes and collectively they agree it’s the best idea of the night, none of them suited for the scene playing out in front of them.    
  
Connor finds himself stuck with Chris and Kevin as James rounds up Arnold and Naba; negotiating a one more drink limit after they collectively outvote him.    
  
“You’re a terrible babysitter.” Chris asserts into his cup.    
  
“Giving the kids alcohol?” Kevin joins in the heckling, “I’ll have to report you for that.”    
  
Together they devolve into laughter, hanging off of one another and conspiring against Connor — who’s requested that they loop their arms together so he doesn’t lose them.    
  
“How could you lose us?” Chris slurs, through an endless bout of laughter. Once he and Kevin has gotten going, there was no stopping them, both left giggling at the kitchen counter through teary eyes. “Kevin’s the tallest person any of us know.”    
  
“Kevin!” Connor scolds, lunging across the counter to take away the third glass he’s poured himself.    
  
“Ah!” Kevin says, raising his arm out of Connor’s grasp, jostling Chris in the process who still has his arm looped through Kevin’s tree arm.    
  
“Fine.” Connor backs off, refusing to climb his boyfriend like a tree, “You’re a big boy, you want to have a fourth drink? Be my guest.”    
  
“I’ve had five.” Chris confesses as Kevin does a shoddy impression of Lumiere, before bringing his cup to his lips.    
  
“What the hell happened, McKinley?” Nabulungi asks behind them and Connor’s quick to defend himself.    
  
“You think I wanted to babysit?” He asks, “These two have been enabling each other for the past fifteen minutes.”    
  
“C’mon drunkies. Let’s go to the car.” James sighs, gunning to help his boyfriend and just as quickly finding that, as the second tallest person in the group, he has to be the one to help Kevin out of the house.    
  
“Thank you Chris Thomas and Kevin Price for cutting our night short.” Nabulungi says sarcastically, as she piles into James’ SUV.    
  
“Aye, aye, Mon Cappy-ton.” Chris quotes the previous years’ production of The Drowsy Chaperone. Nabulungi rolls her eyes.    
  
“The night isn’t over, we could get food?” Arnold proposes.    
  
“What drive-thru are we hitting?” James asks, looking in the rearview mirror.    
  
“IHOP.” Chris votes.    
  
“I’ve never wanted pancakes more.” Kevin seconds.    
  
“We can’t bring you two anywhere.” Connor replies.    
  
“Why not? Arnold is right, they chose to be like this. Let’s go to IHOP.” Nabulungi agrees and if anyone was placing bets, there’d be a general consensus that she’s hoping to see Chris and Kevin crash and burn.    
  
“You two better act as sober as you possibly can.” Connor warns.    
  
“Did he just say we have to act as straight as we possibly can?” Chris asks, loudly, from the backseat, dropping his voice a register.    
  
“Sober.” Kevin corrects with a nudge, having been resigned to the back of the car as well.    
  
“Aye, aye Mon Cappy-ton.” Chris salutes, still deepening his voice and together he and Kevin descend back into laughter as Connor drags a hand down his face.    
  
“Do not pass that IHOP.” Naba says, amused, “We have to take this circus on the road.”    
  
“I hate this.” Connor’s sure to assert.    
  
“You’re just sad you didn’t drink.” Naba refutes as James pulls into the parking lot.    
  
“Best behavior.” Connor warns.    
  
“Yes, Mom.” Kevin replies.    
  
“I can’t bring you home.” Connor groans.    
  
“My dad is out of town.” James explains, “He left this morning for some construction side job, so you guys can sleep over.”   
  
Kevin finds it increasingly hard to concentrate. He’d spent a lot of time, at first, reflecting on everything had happened until he couldn’t find it within himself to care — thanks to the alcohol. After that, everything had gotten funnier and more palatable and he just — isn’t thinking. And that’s probably one of the best side effects. Neglecting his constant worry to live uninhibited in the present.    
  
“Boop.” He says, pressing a finger to the corner of Connor’s mouth as they walk inside. Granted, walking in his state is mostly draping himself over Connor and following his lead.    
  
Connor swats his hand away.    
  
“You’re angry.” Kevin notes in a singsong voice.    
  
“You’re drunk.” Connor replies.   
  
“You said I could drink.” Kevin recalls.   
  
“I’m not angry.” Connor backtracks, “I’m just chaperoning and I’m worried about you.”    
  
“I’m fine.” Kevin assures him as they’re shown a table. He slips into the circle booth first, followed by Connor.   
  
“Can I get you guys started with any drinks?” The waitress asks.    
  
“Water’s fine.” Connor orders for himself and Kevin and as she moves onto everyone else, they fallback into their hushed conversation. “I guess I’ve just had some time to think and I’m worried that I crossed a line.”   
  
Kevin snorts next to him, “I am a consenting adult.”    
  
“I know.” Connor replies, squeezing his leg. “But there’s so much you don’t know about the world.”   
  
“So I’m inexperienced.” Kevin slurs with a shrug, “We’re figuring it out.”    
  
“You had a panic attack.” Connor reminds him in a lower whisper.    
  
“Yeah,” Kevin recalls, “That happened. But I was just— I thought I was supposed to be doing something else and then I just— I blew it all . . . down your throat.”    
  
“Oh my God.” Connor replies, trying to process what Kevin has just said. “Oh my God, Kevin.”   
  
Beside him, Kevin’s already started giggling again at the look on Connor’s face. “That was so inappropriate.” Connor hisses, trying to hide his own laughter as he playfully hits Kevin with a menu.    
  
“What happened to best behavior?” Naba chides.    
  
“He’s being bad.” Connor tries to justify.    
  
“That’s kinky.” Chris declares, “Okay, spit it up. What happened when you two snuck off earlier?”   
  
“Christopher.” James hisses.   
  
“I do not want to know.” Nabulungi raises her hands.    
  
Kevin wraps his arms around one of Connor’s, resting his chin on Connor’s shoulder, both remaining silent in regards to Chris’ question.    
  
The group orders a couple rounds of all you can eat pancakes, filling themselves after the Prom food and the party snacking.    
  
“Kevin,” Connor sighs, wetting a napkin in his water glass as he moves to wipe syrup off of his dress shirt, “you have to get the food in your mouth.”   
  
“Sorry.” Kevin blinks and Connor can tell he’s losing his pep, but he’s still sat with one arm wrapped around Connor’s and his head on his shoulder. He pushes his finished plate aside, trying to steal food off of Connor’s plate.    
  
“They’ll bring you more.” Connor assures him, gently knocking his hand away. “That’s what we paid for.”    
  
Across the table, Chris is still bubbly, engaging in an animated conversation with his boyfriend.    
  
“We haven’t paid yet.” Kevin corrects in a hum, accidentally dropping his fork into Connor’s lap. They both watch it land on the floor.    
  
“Kevin, who let you drink?” He huffs a laugh, requesting another round of pancakes and a new fork when the waitress checks in with them.    
  
“I think you’ve had enough.” Connor decides when Kevin drops not the second, but the third piece of pancake in his lap for the night. Gently, he takes Kevin’s fork away, pushing the pancakes out of reach.    
  
His face is flushed and Connor can tell he’s having as much trouble keeping his eyes open as he had had trying to keep the food on his fork. “Let’s go to the car.” He tries to rouse him as he hands James money for their portion of dinner in exchange for the keys and it takes Kevin a considerable amount of time and effort to get out of the booth.    
  
This time, Connor climbs in the back seat with him, making sure he gets buckled. Almost immediately, Kevin’s presses into Connor’s side in what Connor would consider a highly uncomfortable position. “I love you.” He says, nodding off.   
  
“I love you too, Kevin Price.” Connor assures him, brushing his hair away from his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stylistically, I shied away from focusing on Kevin when he started drinking because he stopped focusing on himself. 
> 
> I thought this would be the last Chapter so I spent a lot of time on it, but it needs a better ending. 
> 
> Sorry to keep everyone waiting! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! Let me know what you think! I’m debating starting a new fic after this one or writing little stand alone pieces in this world. 
> 
> Much love! You can follow me on Tumblr: @afterafternoons


	14. Chapter 14

To Kevin, graduation seemed years away, even despite the daily announcements and the fact that he’d been blue slipped to pick up his cap and gown one day in the office, because he’d missed the distribution at lunch.    
  
He had no definitive plan for the future and frankly, he had procrastinated spending any time thinking about it even if he knew that missionary work and BYU were out of the mix.    
  
Connor planned to go to community college to get his Associates’ and in the meantime he’d save up for a professional dance program and maybe an apartment in New York, because that was the dream.    
  
Kevin’s only goal was medical school.    
  
Next thing he knew, in the blink of an eye, Graduation had passed and it seemed there was a party every other weekend. Arnold’s. Naba’s. Chris’. James’. Not to mention all of his other theatre friends.    
  
“Mom,” Kevin had insisted in passing one day, “it’s fine, really. Connor and I don’t mind having a conjoined party.”    
  
Standing over the island in the kitchen, she used the backend of the pen she was holding to itch her eyebrow. “Are you sure?” She double checked, “Because Mr. Hatimbi and the Thomas’ want to help with Connor’s party in any way they can.”    
  
“It’s fine, Mom.” He had confirmed.    
  
And that’s how they’d found themselves hanging streamers in the backyard at 9AM on a Saturday.    
  
“Jack,” Mr. Price scolds, “you’re supposed to be blowing up the balloons, not inhaling them. You’re going to get brain damage.”    
  
“Are we sure he doesn’t already have some?” Kevin mutters, spotting Connor who had insisted he could stand on the ledge to tape the streamers to the house. A job Kevin could have easily done on a chair to save himself the worry that his boyfriend would fall off the deck to his death, but Connor’s careful and nimble and fully capable.    
  
He shoots Kevin a look before taking his hand to jump off the ledge and back into the deck. “What else do we have?” He asks, stepping back to admire his work.    
  
“Catering should be here within the hour.” Mr. Price says, checking his watch, “You two should be good to freshen up.”    
  
Across the deck, Jack let’s go of a balloon, sending it flying into the air as it imitates flatulence.    
  
“You might have to take over for that one.” Mr. Price rethinks, but Kevin’s already ushering Connor back inside through the screen door.    
  
“Boys?” Mrs. Price calls when she hears back door open. “It looks like we have some early guests.”   
  
“Who is that?” Connor asks, unable to recognize the car in the driveway as they step out onto the front porch. James’ SUV pulls in behind the unfamiliar hybrid and Connor’s surprised when Chris jumps out of the new car. “Graduation present?” He guesses, as Nabulungi and Arnold pile out of James car.    
  
To Connor’s confusion, Chris shakes his head.    
  
Kevin reaches to squeeze Connor’s shoulders, because he’s in on the surprise.    
  
“Why are you doing that?” Connor asks, turning to face Kevin.    
  
“Connor,” Naba speaks up, “It is your car.”    
  
Connor opens and closes his mouth a few times in response, but no sound comes out. “No.” He says finally, “No, stop it. That’s not funny.”    
  
“You’re starting college later this year,” Chris explains holding out the keys to his best friend, “and my parents and the Price’s and Naba’s dad decided it’s high time you’re able to drive yourself.”    
  
“Did you know?” Connor turns on Kevin, tears brimming his eyes, “You’re horrible at keeping secrets, how long have you known?”    
  
“A month or so.” Kevin confesses with a grin, “Arnold’s dad is a car salesman and he helped us pick something out for you.”    
  
“I hate all of you.” Connor decides, hands shaking as he takes the keys from Chris. He pulls everyone into a hug, individually, crying into each of their shoulders.    
  
“Now you get to drive me around.” Kevin teases as Connor wraps his arms around his torso and Connor nods with a wet laugh.    
  
“It’s only fair.” He concedes.    
  
“Happy Graduation, guys.” Chris grins, opening the back seat of the car to extract their gifts.    
  
“I think my mom has a table set up inside for gifts.” Kevin says, ushering everyone into his house.    
  
The party fills out as the day progresses. Everyone’s parents joining later in the day, asking Connor how he likes his car. Kevin’s extended family is big and he almost feels rude to rub that in Connor’s face, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he entertains Kevin’s younger cousins.    
  
“Kevin,” Connor intercepts him as he makes his rounds, greeting everyone that’s shown up, “I didn’t know a family could be this big.”    
  
“This isn’t even everyone.” Kevin sighs, “My dad is one of five kids and two of his brother’s refused to subject their families to . . . us. And then my mom is one of three and I only just found out they weren’t Mormon. For the longest time I just thought they were bad at following the rules.”   
  
“I’m sorry.” Connor frowns, squeezing his arm, because he’s been there. Being cut off from the people you’re supposed to love unconditionally, for something you can’t control, is the worst type of feeling. “Are you gonna introduce me? Arnold seems to know everyone and I can’t keep up with his rapid fire.”   
  
“Arnold probably knows a majority of my family,” Kevin confesses, “but given his inability to remember Nabalungi’s name, I have little faith he’s addressing anyone correctly.”    
  
Connor laughs in response, looping his arms through Kevin’s all in an attempt to be closer in the confusing chaos. “I’d love to get to know everyone by their preferred names.”    
  
“Don’t tell Colin or you’ll have to address him as Spider-Man and ONLY Spider-Man.” Kevin replies, in faux seriousness.    
  
“Kevin, have you said hello to you grandmother?” His mother asks, passing with bowls of chips to set on the back patio, “She tells me she’s mad at you.”   
  
“Why is she mad at me?” Kevin asks, following his mother and tugging Connor along through the crowd of extended family.    
  
“You’ll have to ask her.” His mom shrugs, nodding her head towards the patio door in gesture for he or Connor to get it for her. It’s not that Kevin doesn’t want to help, it’s just that Connor gets to the door first and they continue on following her outside.    
  
“Connor!” Grandma Edwards greets, holding her hands out to take Connor’s in her own, “I’d like to say I’ve heard so much about you, but my grandson didn’t tell me he was seeing anyone or that he was in a show. He won’t even accept my Facebook friend request.”   
  
“Kevin.” Connor scolds, turning to face his boyfriend.    
  
“Well, I—“ Kevin stammers, shrugging at a loss for words. He’d been going through so much at the time of the show. Helping Connor through Lauren’s death. Sorting through his own feelings and of course, Ethan. He hadn’t wanted to add more people to the mix.    
  
“In his defense,” Connor says softly, braving backlash he won’t receive from this set of grandparents, “it can be hard coming out to the whole family. Mine disowned me when I told them.”    
  
“Oh, sweet boy.” Kevin’s grandmother frowns, “We’re your family now. Even if you break up with Kevin. I’m your Grandma Edwards, this is your Grandpa Edwards. We got Auntie Dawn—“   
  
“Grandma,” Kevin interrupts politely as she points out various family members, “I was gonna personally introduce him to everyone.”    
  
“We’re your family.” She reminds Connor, squeezing his hands. Kevin’s grandfather, a man of few words in his old age, offers up his handkerchief to Connor who’s gone glassy eyed at her kindness.    
  
“Thank you.” He says, to both of them as he dabs at his eyes.    
  
“I expect you to accept my friend request and invite me to your next show.” She scolds Kevin, holding her hands out to him as Connor wipes away his tears. “I love you boys, alright?”    
  
“I love you too.” He assures her, as she pulls him in for a hug and presses a kiss to his cheek.    
  
So, Kevin spends the next hour or so introducing Connor to everyone. “You think Jack and I NOT being twins is bad?” He had teased at one point, “Triplets are the worst thing to happen to the Price family. I can’t tell the difference between Alma, Ammon and Aaron.”    
  
“Those are Mormon names.” Connor had laughed in a low voice.    
  
“Kevin,” Aunt Gretchen stops them towards the end of his introductions, “these are some cute pictures you have in the display case here.”    
  
He and Connor stop to admire the photos from opening night and their museum date and Prom and even Graduation. A roadmap of their relationship, proudly mapped out and displayed for everyone to see.    
  
“I’m happy to see you happy.” She says and it means a lot coming from his dad’s side of the family.    
  
“Thank you.” He smiles as she holds her arms out for a hug he gladly accepts.    
  
“You too, Connor.” She says, waving his boyfriend into the huddle.   
  
Family members begin to leave until only Kevin’s siblings and friends remain seated around the campfire in the backyard.    
  
“Have you opened any presents yet, Kev?” His mother asks, putting together a s’more for Colin.    
  
“I thought it’d be rude.” He shrugs, driving his stick into the ground, he and Connor sharing a camping chair. Connor perched on his lap, but mostly leaning over the fire.    
  
Gently, he flicks Kevin’s knee. “I had to open my car in front of everyone.”    
  
“That’s hardly the same as a watch or a coffeemaker.” Kevin replies, lightly pinching Connor’s back.    
  
“How do you know that’s what you got?” His father asks.   
  
Kevin raises his stick to point at his friends, “Because that’s what they all got.”    
  
“I got a new texting device.” Naba grins proudly, holding up her phone.    
  
“I got a set of pans.” James offers.   
  
“That’s cause you can cook.” Chris teases, “I got a vacuum.”   
  
“‘Cause you need one.” James replies, engaging in the same back and forth, playful banter as Kevin and Connor do.    
  
“Jack, why don’t you bring some presents out.” Mrs. Price waves her son away.    
  
Begrudgingly, Kevin (and Connor) open their graduation gifts. Gift cards. Money. Households items for when they go away to college. Socks, for Kevin’s collection.    
  
“Give it to him.” Mrs. Price nods to Jack who extends a slim envelope to Kevin and Connor squeezes his knee in excitement. Part of him thinks that much like Connor’s car surprise, they’ve been sitting on this for a while, but he doesn’t want to let himself down.    
  
“Plane tickets?” He asks, pulling them out of the sleeve.    
  
“To?” Connor prompts with a giddy smile.   
  
“Florida . . .” Kevin reads.    
  
“And guess who gets to chaperone?” Jack grins, “We’re going back to Disney!”    
  
“I want to go to Disney—“ Colin starts to say, but is quickly silenced by his mother as Connor pulls Kevin in for a kiss.    
  
“It’s not better than a car.” He teases as he pulls away, “But I think it’ll do.”    
  
“That’s from all of us.” Arnold speaks up, pointing around the circle.    
  
“We even got Ethan and Sarah to pitch in a little.” His father explains.    
  
“I noticed they weren’t here today.” Kevin says, as he tucks the tickets back into the envelope, arms still holding Connor close.    
  
“Unlike my own brothers, I’m sure he’ll come around.” His father assures him, “We just have to be patient.”   
  
“He did invite Connor to the wedding.” His mother offers, trying to see the bright side.    
  
“I forgot to tell you.” Connor replies, “Yeah, I got a professional letter and everything, inviting me as your plus one with a little apology, granted it explained that he needs time and that he doesn’t exactly condone us, but he can learn to respect our relationship if we give him that time and really, all I can say is, he’s trying harder than my parents did. And he apologized to the best of his abilities, so I’m happy.”    
  
“I’m happy he did that.” Kevin says and it’s a small step and he knows it’ll take time, but it takes a burden off his shoulders.    
  
“He sent a present too, but your mother accidentally opened it.” Mr. Price speaks up, looking to his wife.    
  
“It wasn’t labeled.” She shrugs, passing a bag around the circle to Kevin. Even though the package is unwrapped, whatever it is still comes in a box that Kevin opens to find an engraved stethoscope.   
  
“That’s really pretty, Kev.” Connor gasps, looking down at it. Gently he moves to touch it as Kevin pulls it out of the box to look at it.    
  
Kevin’s never felt particularly heard by Ethan, especially because of their difference in age and he can only imagine how Colin feels. But the thought put into his gift means a lot.    
  
“There’s more in the bag.” His mom says and Connor helps Kevin close the stethoscope back into the box as Kevin pulls out embroidered scrubs.    
  
“Those are from me.” Jack says, “But Sarah embroidered them for you.”    
  
“Thank you.” Kevin says and he’s certainly not teary eyed.    
  
“Hey, you deserve it.” Jack says, “You know what you want to do and you’ve had a big year. I think it’s only fair that if you don’t go on mission, you get the things you need to succeed in the work you plan to go into.”    
  
“There’s one last thing for Connor.” Mrs. Price says and Jack hands over the last box, “We think it’s only fair if we help him in his endeavors too.”   
  
“I didn’t know about this.” Kevin promises, eagerly watching Connor open his gift.    
  
“New tap shoes.” He grins, holding the box up to show Kevin.    
  
As they pack up the gifts and their friends start to leave, Kevin can assuredly attest to the fact that he’s ready for whatever the future holds. He’s ready for a couple weeks in Florida and a future in medicine — whether that’s back home or in New York with Connor. They’re dreaming together and that’s all he could ask for.    
  
“I’m thinking a penthouse on a sky rise.” Connor says, cuddled into his side later that night.    
  
“Not right away, I’ll be a struggling med student.” Kevin laughs.    
  
“No,” Connor agrees, “not right away, but someday. When you’re an RN and I’m on Broadway.”    
  
“On Broadway as what?” Kevin asks.    
  
“Anything.” Connor shrugs, “The world’s my oyster. Maybe Dr. Frank N Furter in Rocky Horror or Conrad Birdie In Bye Bye Birdie.”   
  
“Maybe you should stick to Cornelius Hackl.” Kevin laughs.    
  
“Yeah, but I could be Eric in The Little Mermaid or Lucas Beineke in The Addams Family.” Connor replies.    
  
“This is true.” Kevin smiles.    
  
“But I’ll always be your boyfriend.” Connor grins, cheekily.    
  
“No,” Kevin’s quick to respond, “if all goes well, one day you’ll be my husband.”    
  
“What do you mean if all goes well?” Connor replies, “Don’t even start planning for something to go wrong.”    
  
“I’m not. I’m not.” Kevin surrenders and they both laugh.    
  
“‘Night, Kev.” Connor yawns, “Love you.”    
  
“Goodnight Conrad and Cornelius and Eric and Lucas and Dr. Frank N Furter and Connor and future husband.” Kevin responds and he can always feel Connor roll his eyes, “I love all of you too.”    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHH!!! THANK YOU ALL FOR READING!!!
> 
> I’ll get started on something new, soon, I promise!!
> 
> Much love!


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